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THEOLOGICAL  SE1IIN\RY.| 

fi  Fi-ince'.cii,  IT.  ".  (i 

l'  '■* 

BX  9815  .P7  1834 
Priestley,  Joseph,  1733- 

1804. 
Views  of  Christian  truth, 

piety,  and  morality 


5^^=? 


VIEWS 


CHRISTIAN    TRUTH,    PIETY, 


MORALITY, 


SELECTED   FROM  THE    WRITINGS   OF 

/ 

DR.   PRIESTLEY. 


A    MEMOIR    OF    HIS    LIFE, 
BY  HENRY  WARE,  Jr. 


CAMBRIDGE  : 

JAMES  MUNROE  AND  COMPANY. 

1834. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1834, 

Bv  James  Munroe  and  Company, 

in  llie  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts 


Cambridge  .- 
Manson,  Emerson,  and  Grant,  Printers. 


PREFACE 


It  is  many  years  ago  that  the  idea  of  the  present  publi- 
cation occurred  to  me.  In  looking  at  some  of  the  works 
of  this  voluminous  writer,  I  perceived  that  there  were 
many  passages,  now  unknown,  which,  if  collected  together, 
would  form  a  valuable  volume  of  religious  instruction,  ac- 
ceptable to  devout  readers  and  honorable  to  the  memory 
of  the  distinguished  author.  Various  circumstances  de- 
layed the  execution  of  the  design,  and  I  had  finally  com- 
mitted it  to  the  charge  of  a  friend  who  proposed  to  do  it 
at  his  leisure.  Meantime  some  recent  abusive  notices  of 
Priestley  recalled  my  attention  to  the  subject,  and  seemed 
to  present  a  fitting  occasion  for  a  work  which  would 
at  once  instruct  and  animate  religious  readers,  and  do 
something  toward  vindicating  the  character  of  an  injured 
man ;  a  man,  who,  with  all  his  errors,  and  they  seem  to 
me  to  have  been  many,  was  yet  distinguished  for  a  pure 
and  unalienable  devotion  to  the  cause  of  Christianity,  a 
strong  piety,  an  incorruptible  love. of  truth,  and  an  integ- 
rity and  simplicity  truly  apostolic.  Little  as  I  can  sym- 
pathise with  many  of  his  favorite  views,  I  can  still  less 
sympathise  with  the  injustice  which  consigns  so  much 
excellence  to  calumny  and  disgrace. 

I  am  not  insensible  to  the  hazard  which  he  runs 
who  attempts  to  shield  a  name  which  has  been  aban- 
doned to  theological  reproach.  He  is  quite  as  likely  to 
draw  the  obloquy   on  himself  as  to  remove    it  from  the 


IV  PREFACE. 

former  victim.  But,  notwithstanding,  it  seems  to  me 
that  true  goodness  ought  to  be  honored  wherever  found, 
and  that  he  who  honors  ought  to  be  ready  to  vindicate 
it  at  whatever  hazard.  They  who  can  admire  Fenelon 
with  all  his  Catholic  errors,  ought  not  to  be  ashamed  of 
their  admiration  for  Priestley  with  all  his  Protestant  errors. 
It  is  not  the  error,  in  either  case,  which  is  admired ;  it  is 
the  virtue  which  is  seen  to  exist  in  the  midst  of  and  in  spite 
of  the  error.  If  my  love  of  Fenelon  does  not  cause  me 
to  be  identified  with  his  Romanism,  neither  ought  my 
respect  for  Priestley  to  make  me  responsible  for  his  ob- 
noxious peculiarities.  And  while  the  beautiful  writings  of 
the  Catholic  Archbishop  are  familiarly  read  among  us  in 
spite  of  his  adherence  to  the  Pope,  let  the  simple  pages  of 
the  English  Divine,  less  beautiful  indeed  but  not  less  tme 
and  wholesome,  find  an  entrance  equally  unprejudiced  to 
our  tables  and  our  hearts.  It  is  but  the  demand  of  com- 
mon justice.  I  cannot  believe  that  the  Christian  world 
will  be  deterred  for  ever  firom  giving  heed  to  it. 

With  these  few  words  of  explanation,  I  commend  this 
humble  effort  to  the  candor  of  the  Christian  public,  and  the 
blessing  of  Almighty  God. 

H.  W.  Jr. 

Cambridge,  ^pril  26, 1834. 


CONTENTS. 


Memoir  of  Dr.  Priestley.      -            -            -            -            -  -     vii 

The  Duty  of  not  Living  to  Ourselves.     A  Sermon.       -            -  1 

The  Danger  of  Bad  Habits.     A  Sermon.                  -            -  -    28 

Habitual  Devotion.         ------  41 

Social  and  Public  Worship.              -            -            -            -  -     53 

Ostentation  in  Religion.             -----  60 

Family  Worship.      -            -             -            -            -            -  -63 

Observance  of  the  Lord's  Day.              -            -            .            -  65 

The  Lord's  Supper.               -            -            -            -            -  -     67 

Study  of  the  Scriptures.             -----  71 

The  Christian  Character.     -             -             -             -             -  -     75 

The  Christian  in  the  World. 79 

Religious  Use  of  the  World.            -            -            -            -  -     87 

Christianity  Elevates  the  Character.     -            -            -            -  89 

The  Christian  Character,  how  Formed.      -            -            -  -     96 

The  Christian  Character  not  appreciated  by  the  World.          -  101 

The  Christian  ready  to  suffer  for  his  Faith.             -            -  -  103 

Forgiveness  of  Injuries.             .            -            -            -            .  106 

Charity  the  Debt  of  the  Rich  to  the  Poor.  -            -            -  -107 

The  Objects  of  Education.       -              -             -             -             -  110 

Of  Instruction  in  the  Principles  of  Morals  and  Religion.    -  -  113 

The  Importance  of  Early  Religious  Instruction.           -            -  120 

Infidelity. 126 

Tendency  to  Atheism  in  Modern  Unbelievers.          -            -  130 
Duty  of  Christians  respecting  the  present  prevalence  of  Infidelity     141 

Superior  Value  of  Revealed  Religion.             -            -            -  148 
Divine  Mission  of  Moses.     ------  158 

The  Character  of  Christ.         -            -             -          .-            -  162 
The  Spread  of  Christianity  a  Proof  of  its  Truth.     -            -  -  166 
Religious  Knowledge,  —  Addressed  to  the  Youth  of  his  Congre- 
gation in  Leeds.    ------  171 

Character  of  the  Rev.  Richard  Price,  D.  D.            -            -  -  175 

Character  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Robinson.         ...  184 

Miscellaneous  Thoughts.     -.-...  189 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


Dr.  Priestley  was  born  at  Fieldhead,  near  Leeds  in  York- 
shire, on  the  13th  of  March,  old  style,  1733.  He  received 
impressions  of  religion  and  truth  from  the  instructions  of  his 
mother,  who  died  when  he  was  seven  years  old.  She  was  a 
sincerely  religious  woman,  who  carefully  taught  him  the 
Assembly's  Catechism,  and  was  so  anxious  to  impress  on  him 
ideas  of  right,  that  she  once  made  him  carry  back  to  his 
uncle's  house  a  pin  which  he  had  picked  up  when  playing 
there  with  his  cousins.  Two  years  after  her  death,  he  was 
adopted  by  an  aunt,  Mrs.  Keighly,  with  whom  he  afterwards 
lived  as  her  own  child,  and  of  whom  he  always  spoke  in  the 
most  grateful  terms,  saying  that  she  was  truly  a  parent  to 
him.  She  was,  as  his  parents  had  been,  a  devoted  Calvinist, 
though  not  of  the  most  exclusive  character ;  she  maintained 
constant  intercourse  and  friendship  with  several  of  the  most 
heretical  ministers  in  the  vicinity.  Thus  he  was  brought  up, 
as  he  tells  us,*  "  with  sentiments  of  piety,  but  without  big- 
otry ;  and  having,  from  his  earliest  years,  given  much  attention 
to  the  subject  of  religion,  he  was  as  much  confirmed  as  he 
well  could  be  in  the  principles  of  Calvinism,  all  the  books 
that  came  in  his  way  having  that  tendency."  His  brother 
records  of  him,  "  At  four  years  of  age  he  could  repeat  the 
Assembly's  Catechism  without  missing  a  word.  When  about 
six  and  a  half,  he  would  now  and  then  ask  me  to  kneel  down 
with  him  while  he  prayed." 

*  Memoirs  of  his  ow^n  Life,  p.  7.  (London,  1809). 


VIU  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

He  had  an  early  love  for  learning,  and  made  rapid  pro- 
gress in  his  studies,  allowing  himself  very  little  time  for  recre- 
ation. Between  the  ages  of  eleven  and  thirteen,  he  read 
most  of  the  works  of  Bunyan,  as  well  as  other  writers  on  reli- 
gion, besides  the  common  Latin  authors,  and  at  an  early  age 
learned  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  Syriac,  and  Arabic.  The  dispo- 
sition of  his  mind  was  wholly  toward  divinity,  and  all  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  situation  favored  the  growth  of  a  religious 
character,  and  a  disposition  to  religious  inquiry.  Before  going 
from  home  to  pursue  his  studies,  he  was  desirous  of  becoming 
a  communicant.  But  the  elders  of  the  church  refused  him, 
because  he  could  not  agree  that  "  all  the  human  race  (sup- 
posing them  not  to  have  any  sin  of  their  own),  were  liable  to 
the  wrath  of  God  and  the  pains  of  hell  forever,  on  account  of 
the  sin  of  Adam  only."  Some  time  before  this,  as  he  relates, 
he  had  been  much  distressed  that  he  could  not  feel  a  proper 
repentance  for  the  sin  of  Adam.  But  he  had  now  learned  to 
think  differently  on  the  subject,  and  pursuing  his  inquiries 
became  a  decided  Arminian. 

It  was  the  earnest  desire  of  his  aunt  and  other  friends, 
that  he  would  place  himself  in  the  Academy  at  Mile-end, 
under  the  care  of  Dr.  Conder.  But  this  he  resolutely  oppos- 
ed ;  because  he  would  there  not  only  be  required  to  relate 
his  experience,  but  "  to  subscribe  his  assent  to  ten  printed 
articles  of  the  strictest  Calvinistic  faith,  and  repeat  it  every 
six  months."  The  consequence  was  that  he  nearly  lost  his 
education  ;  but  it  was  at  length  decided  that  he  should  go  to 
Daventry.  This  was  in  September,  1752.  The  three  years 
which  he  spent  at  that  institution,  he  always  looked  back 
upon  with  great  satisfaction.  The  method  of  theological 
instruction  was  very  free,  variety  of  sentiment  existed  upon 
many  important  questions  both  among  teachers  and  pupils, 
liberty  of  opinion  and  discussion  was  fully  allowed,  and  every 
inquirer  arrived  at  his  results  after  an  opportunity  for  a 
thorough  and  unbiassed  investigation.  The  result  in  the 
case  of  young  Priestley  was,  that  he  still  further  modified  the 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  IX 

opinions  both  religious  and  philosophical  of  his  early  educa- 
tion, and  he  left  the  institution  an  Arian  and  a  Necessarian. 
His  diligence  in  study  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact,  that, 
besides  his  stated  duties,  he  read  in  company  with  a  fellow- 
student,  ten  folio  pages  of  Greek  every  day,  besides  a  Greek 
play  every  week,  and  composed  the  first  copy  of  his  "  Insti- 
tutes of  Religion." 

On  leaving  the  Academy  he  took  charge  of  a  small  con- 
gregation at  Needham.  But  an  impediment  in  his  speech 
rendered  him  unpopular  in  the  pulpit,  and  his  heretical  opin- 
ions caused  him  to  be  shunned  when  he  attempted  to  open  a 
school  ;  and  at  the  end  of  three  years  he  removed  to  Nant- 
wich,  in  Cheshire,  where  the  congregation  was  still  smaller 
than  in  Needham,  consisting  of  only  about  sixty  persons. 
Here  he  remained  three  years,  teaching  a  school  of  about 
thirty-six  pupils  from  seven  in  the  morning  till  four  in  the 
afternoon,  and  then  giving  instruction  in  a  private  family  till 
seven  in  the  evening.  He  appears  to  have  obtained  no  small 
reputation  as  a  teacher,  and  in  September,  17G1,  he  was  re- 
moved to  the  office  of  Tutor  in  the  languages  at  the  Academy 
in  Warrington. 

Here  he  married  in  17G2,  and  lived  happily  for  six  years. 
As  a  teacher  he  was  indefatigably  laborious,  not  confining 
himself  to  his  own  department,  that  of  the  languages  ;  but 
lecturing  also  on  oratory,  history,  civil  law,  and  anatomy. 
His  lectures  on  oratory  and  on  history  were  afterwards  pub- 
lished. It  was  during  this  period,  that,  in  one  of  his  annual 
visits  to  London,  he  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Franklin, 
and  was  induced  to  compose  the  "  History  of  Electricity," 
and  to  interest  himself  more  than  he  had  ever  yet  done  in 
philosophical  experiments.  It  is  one  among  a  multitude  of 
proofs  of  his  versatility  and  power  of  despatch,  that  he  com- 
posed and  printed  this  large  and  valuable  work  in  less  than 
twelve  months,  though  engaged  five  hours  daily  in  lecturing 
in  the  Academy. 

In  1767  Dr.  Priestley  accepted  an  invitation  to  take  the 


K  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

pastoral  charge  of  Mill-hill  Chapel  at  Leeds,  whither  he  re- 
moved in  September,  and  where  he  remained  for  six  years. 
Here  he  was  as  indefatigable  a  minister  as  he  had  been  a 
tutor  at  Warrington.  "  I  continued  six  years,"  he  says, 
"  very  happy  with  a  liberal,  harmonious,  and  friendly  congre- 
gation, to  whom  my  services,  of  which  I  was  not  sparing, 
were  very  acceptable.  Here  I  had  no  unreasonable  prejudi- 
ces to  contend  with,  so  that  I  had  full  scope  for  every  kind  of 
exertion ;  and  I  can  truly  say  that  I  always  considered  the 
office  of  a  Christian  minister  the  most  honorable  of  any  on 
earth,  and  in  the  studies  proper  to  it  I  always  took  the  greatest 
pleasure."  These  studies  he  had  never  remitted  in  the  midst 
of  his  previous  occupations  ;  but  he  now  devoted  himself  to 
them  with  more  exclusive  attention,  and  pursued  them 
widely.  From  this  time  his  publications  became  more  fre- 
quent, and  on  a  great  variety  of  subjects.  Now  it  was  that  he 
planned  and  commenced  the  publication  of  his  "  Theological 
Repository."  And  as  if  all  this  variety  of  labor  was  nothing, 
he  here  entered  on  that  course  of  patient  and  ingenious  ex- 
periments in  Natural  Philosophy  which  were  attended  with 
so  brilliant  success,  and  have  given  him  a  high  place  among 
the  great  discoverers  and  philosophers  of  modern  times.  His 
first  publication  on  the  subject  was  a  small  pamphlet  in  1772. 
The  next  year  he  communicated  an  account  of  his  experi- 
ments to  the  Royal  Society,  and  received  the  honor  of  the 
gold  medal.  He  mentions  in  his  Memoirs  the  pleasant  cir- 
cumstance, that  the  person  in  Leeds  who  alone  gave  him 
any  aid  in  his  experiments  was  a  zealous  methodist,  Mr.  Hey, 
who  had  written  against  him  on  some  theological  ques- 
tions. 

At  this  time  it  was  proposed  to  him  as  a  man  of  science 
that  he  should  accompany  the  second  expedition  of  Captain 
Cook  to  the  South  Seas,  and  he  began  to  make  arrangements 
for  the  voyage  ;  but  some  clergymen  in  the  Board  of  Longi- 
tude objected  on  account  of  his  religious  principles,  and 
Dr.  Forster  received  the  appointment;  —  "a  person,"  says 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTEEY. 


Priestley  with  a  characteristic  candor,   "  far  better  qualified 
for  the  purpose." 

In  May,  1773,  Dr.  Priestley  resigned  his  charge  at  Leeds. 
His  labors  had  been  various  and  successful,  and  evidently 
conducted  on  the  principle  which  he  lays  down  in  these 
words  :  "  The  greatest  ambition  of  Christian  ministers  should 
be  to  render  their  respective  churches  examples  to  others  in 
regularity  of  discipline,  and  in  the  most  effectual  modes  of 
instruction  adapted  to  every  age,  and  especially  to  persons  in 
younger  life."  In  order  to  effect  this  end,  he  had  instituted 
in  his  own  congregation  a  series  of  measures,  of  which  his 
sermon  gives  a  brief  occount,  and  which  we  quote  as  furnish- 
ing a  good  idea  of  the  manner  in  which  he  executed  his  im- 
portant functions. 

"  Perceiving,  upon  my  first  coming  among  you,  that  very 
few,  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  the  congregation,  re- 
ceived the  Lord's  Supper,  I  published  "  A  Free  Address  "  to 
you  upon  the  subject,  calculated,  as  I  thought,  to  explain 
the  nature  of  that  institution,  to  answer  the  objections  you 
might  have  to  the  celebration  of  it,  especially  those  which 
remained  from  the  ignorance  and  superstition  of  the  dark 
ages  of  Christianity,  and  to  set  the  advantage  and  obligation 
of  communicating  in  a  clear  and  strong  light.  I  have  had 
the  satisfaction  to  find  that  my  endeavours,  in  this  respect, 
have  not  been  wholly  without  effect,  though  by  no  means  so 
great  as  I  wished,  or  indeed  expected." 
*  #  * 

"  Being  sensible  how  much  is  incumbent  upon  masters  of 
families,  and  how  much  is  in  their  power,  with  respect  to 
the  care  of  their  children  and  servants,  in  instructing  them, 
attending  to  their  morals,  and  keeping  up  the  worship  of 
God  in  their  families,  I  published  a  plain  and  earnest  Address 
to  you  on  this  subject  also,  together  with  short  "  Forms  of 
Prayer,"  for  all  the  usual  occasions  of  a  family  ;  and  I  took 
what  care  I  could  to  have  it  put  into  the  hands  of  every  mas^ 


XU  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

ter  of  a  family  among  you.     Whether  this  attempt  has  had 

any  good  effect,  is  known  to  God  and  your  own  consciences." 

*  *  * 

"  The  great  profligacy  of  the  present  age  being  manifestly 
owing  to  a  want  of  moral  and  religious  principles,  imbibed 
in  early  years,  and  it  being  impossible  to  inculcate  these 
principles  with  sufficient  force  and  effect  by  discourses  from 
the  pulpit,  which  are  almost  necessarily  miscellaneous  and 
unconnected,  I  formed,  and  have  carried  into  execution,  a 
pretty  extensive  plan  of  Religious  Instruction,  advancing,  in  a 
regular  progress,  from  infancy  to   years  of  perfect  manhood. 

For  this  purpose  I  thought  it  convenient  to  divide  the 
younger  part  of  my  hearers  into  three  classes.  The  first 
consisted  of  children,  for  whose  use  I  printed  a  short  and 
very  plain  Catechism,  containing  such  a  view  of  the  princi- 
ples of  religion  as,  I  think,  the  youngest  children  that  have 
attained  to  the  use  of  speech,  may  be  made  to  understand. 
The  second  consisted  of  young  persons  more  advanced  in 
years,  for  whom  I  drew  up  another  Catechism,  consisting 
of  a  set  of  questions  only,  peculiarly  calculated,  as  I  think, 
to  bring  them  very  early,  and  pretty  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  Scriptures,  the  genuine  source  of  all  religious  knowl- 
edge. 

The  third  class  consisted  of  young  men,  from  the  age  of 
sixteen  or  eighteen,  to  about  thirty,  for  whose  use  I  com- 
posed a  set  of  Lectures,  which  I  delivered  in  the  way  of  con- 
versation, in  which  I  endeavoured  to  demonstrate  to  them, 
in  a  regular  manner,  the  principles  of  natural  religion,  the 
evidences,  and  the  doctrines  of  revelation,  and  which  I  con- 
cluded with  a  view  of  the  corruptions  of  Christianity,  histori- 
cally deduced.  By  this  means,  I  am  satisfied,  from  the 
trial  that  I  have  now  made  of  it,  that  young  persons  may 
most  easily  be  brought  to  understand  their  religion  as  Chris- 
tians, Protestants,  and  Dissenters. 

The  peculiar  advantages  of  this  mode  of  instruction,  and 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XUl 

a  more  distinct  account  of  the  nature  of  it,  I  explained  in  an 
"  Essay  on  the  best  Method  of  communicating  Religious  Knowl- 
edge to  the  Members  of  Christian  Societies."  Part  of  this 
Course  of  Lectures  I  have  already  published,  under  the 
title  of  "  Institutes  of  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion,"  and  I 
intend,  God  willing,  to  publish  the  remainder  in  due  time. 

In  part,  to  avoid  obvious  inconveniences,  and  partly  for 
want  of  a  room  sufficiently  large  for  the  purpose,  I  confined 
these  lectures,  for  the  first  time  of  reading  them,  to  young 
men ;  but  I  should  have  been  glad  if,  at  the  second  time  of 
reading  them,  I  could  have  contrived  to  instruct  the  young 
women,  either  at  the  same  time  or  separately. 

It  is  with  great  satisfaction  that  I  can  say,  with  respect  to 
most  of  the  young  men  of  this  congregation,  that  they  have 
given  due  attendance  on  these  lectures ;  and  I  flatter  myself 
that,  by  the  attention  which  they  gave  to  them  when  they 
were  delivered,  and  which,  I  hope,  they  will  still  continue  to 
give  to  them  when  they  are  printed,  they  will  find  their  time 
and  pains  not  ill  bestowed. 

With  respect  to  children  of  the  first  class,  I  must  own 
that  I  had  not  all  the  encouragement  that  I  wished,  and  still 
less  with  respect  to  the  second ;  owing,  perhaps,  to  the 
parents  not  sufficiently  entering  into  the  nature  of  a  thing 
so  new  to  them  as  this  was ;  for  I  am  unwilling  to  suppose 
that  they  were  averse  to  taking  the  pains,  which  they  must, 
at  least  at  the  first,  have  necessarily  done,  to  prepare  their 
children  for  this  kind  of  exercise. 

It  is  acknowledged  by  all,  that  the  general  plan  and  dis- 
cipline of  our  societies  has  deviated  very  far  indeed  from 
that  of  the  primitive  churches,  which  consisted  "of  persons 
whose  object  it  was  to  watch  over  and  edify  one  another, 
and  especially  that  a  very  unequal  part  of  the  burden  is 
now  thrown  upon  the  minister ;  since  he  is  generally  so 
situated,  that  he  cannot,  with  the  least  probability  of  suc- 
cess, interpose  his  advice  or  admonition  where  it  may  be 
most  wanted.     I  therefore  wrote  and  published  an  Address 


XIV  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

to  you,  and  other  Christian  societies,  upon  that  subject, 
proposing  what  appeared  to  me  a  better  constitution  of  a 
Christian  church,  by  means  of  which  the  original  and  pro- 
per ends  of  Christian  societies  might  be  more  effectually 
answered. 

I  am  afraid  we  are  gone  too  far  from  the  primitive  insti- 
tutions of  Christianity  to  expect  a  revival  of  them  in  this 
age;  but  I  hope  that  the  idea  I  then  endeavoured  to  give 
you  of  the  obligation  that  naturally  lies  upon  every  member 
of  a  Christian  society,  who,  on  any  account  whatever,  has 
influence  in  it  (without  any  formal  nomination  to  an  office) 
to  contribute  all  that  may  be  in  his  power  to  the  real  benefit 
of  it,  by  instruction,  reproof,  or  any  other  way,  will  not  be 
wholly  without  effect;  and  that  you  will,  in  general,  be 
more  attentive  to  the  important  Christian  duty  of  '  provoking 
to  love  and  to  good  works,  exhorting  one  another  daily  while 
it  is  called  to-day,  lest  any  be  hardened  by  the  deceitfulness 
of  sin.' 

Lastly,  perceiving  in  this  neighbourhood,  and,  in  some 
measure,  among  yourselves,  the  progress  of  what  appears  to 
me  to  be  a  spurious  and  mischievous  set  of  notions  in  reli- 
gion, inspiring  very  unworthy  ideas  of  the  Divine  Being 
and  the  maxims  of  his  government,  which  cannot  but  have 
an  unfavourable  effect  upon  the  disposition  of  men's  minds, 
and  consequently  upon  their  conduct  in  life ;  I  published, 
in  the  cheapest  form  that  I  could,  and,  in  order  to  give  as 
little  offence  as  possible,  without  my  name,  a  serious  "  Appeal 
to  the  Professors  of  Christianity,"  upon  this  subject.  This, 
and  other  small  pieces,  written  in  pursuance  of  the  same 
design,  I  have  had  the  satisfaction  to  find,  have  been  the 
instrument,  in  the  hands  of  Divine  Providence,  of  enlight- 
ening the  minds  of  many  in  the  knowledge  of  what  I  believe 
to  be  his  truth,  and  I  hope  they  will  still  continue  to  pro- 
duce the  same  effect. 

I  was  the  more  willing  to  publish  something  of  this  kind, 
as  it  has  always  been   my  opinion,  and  my  practice  has  been 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XV 

agreeable  to  it,  to  keep  all  subjects  of  religious  controversy, 
as  much  as  possible,  out  of  the  pulpit ;  and  yet  it  was  to  be 
wished,  that  persons  of  plain  understandings,  who  were  dis- 
posed to  read  and  inquire  for  themselves,  might  have  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  the  foundation,  in  ^reason  and  the 
Scriptures,  of  those  doctrines  which  alone  can  render  the 
Divine  Being  the  object  of  filial  reverence,  love,  and  confi- 
dence ;  and  likewise  be  able  to  answer  those  who  allege 
detached  passages  of  Scripture,  in  favor  of  long-established 
corruptions ;  passages  often  ill  translated,  but  more  often 
wretchedly  interpreted." 

For  some  years  after  leaving  Leeds,  Dr.  Priestley  resided 
with  Lord  Shelburne,  at  his  very  urgent  solicitation,  as  libra- 
rian and  literary  companion.  With  him,  in  1774,  he  made 
a  tour  to  the  continent,  and  spent  a  month  in  Paris,  where  of 
course  he  had  ready  access  to  the  scientific  and  philosophic 
circles  of  that  great  city.  Here  he  found,  as  he  anticipated, 
not  a  little  infidelity. 

"  As  I  was  sufficiently  apprized  of  the  fact,  I  did  not  won- 
der, as  I  otherwise  should  have  done,  to  find  all  the  philo- 
sophical persons  to  whom  I  was  introduced  at  Paris,  unbe- 
lievers in  Christianity,  and  even  professed  Atheists.  As  I 
chose  on  all  occasions  to  appear  as  a  Christian,  I  was  told  by 
some  of  them  that  I  was  the  only  person  they  had  ever  met 
with,  of  whose  understanding  they  had  any  opinion,  who  pro- 
fessed to  believe  Christianity.  But  on  interrogating  them  on 
the  subject,  I  soon  found  that  they  had  given  no  proper  atten- 
tion to  it,  and  did  not  really  know  what  Christianity  was.  This 
was  also  the  case  with  a  great  part  of  the  company  that  I  saw 
at  Lord  Shelburne's.  But  I  hope  that  my  always  avowing 
myself  to  be  a  Christian,  and  holding  myself  ready  on  all 
occasions  to  defend  the  genuine  principles  of  it,  was  not  with- 
out its  use.  Having  conversed  so  much  with  unbelievers,  at 
home  and  abroad,  I  thought  I  should  be  able  to  combat  their 
prejudices  with  some  advantage,  and  with  this  view  I  wrote, 
while  I  was  with  Lord  Shelburne,  the  first  part  of  my   "  Let- 


XVI  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

ters  to  a  Philosophical  Unbeliever,"  in  proof  of  the  doctrines 
of  a  God  and  a  Providence  ;  and  to  this  I  have  added,  during 
my  residence  at  Birmingham,  a  second  part,  in  defence  of  the 
evidences  of  Christianity.  The  first  part  being  replied  to  by 
a  person  who  called  himself  Mr.  Hammon,  1  wrote  a  reply  to 
his  piece,  which  has  hitherto  remained  unanswered.  I  am 
happy  to  find  that  this  work  of  mine  has  done  some  good,  and 
I  hope  that  in  due  time  it  will  do  more.  I  can  truly  say, 
that  the  greatest  satisfaction  I  receive  from  the  success  of  my 
philosophical  pursuits,  arises  from  the  weight  it  may  give  to 
my  attempts  to  defend  Christianity,  and  to  free  it  from  those 
corruptions  which  prevent  its  reception  with  philosophical 
and  thinking  persons,  whose  influence  with  the  vulgar  and 
ths  unthinking  is  very  great." 

From  Paris  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Lindsey  as  follows  : 
"  I  am  quite  tired  of  the  idleness  in  which  I  spend  my  time 
here,  and  long  exceedingly  to  be  about  my  experiments,  or 
some  composition.  Upon  my  journey  I  have  read  and  studied 
the  Gospels  very  much,  and  should  like  exceedingly  to  print 
the  Greek  text,  in  the  order  of  a  harmony,  with  my  disserta- 
tions from  the  "  Repository  "  prefixed.  It  would  certainly  add 
much  to  the  satisfaction  of  reading  the  Life  of  Christ,  to  have 
the  whole  narrative  in  one  continued  story,  and  the  variations 
in  separate  columns.  I  will,  at  least,  cut  to  pieces,  and  put 
together,  one  copy  for  my  own  use.  In  reading  over  the  gos- 
pel of  John,  I  think  I  perceive  that  one  of  his  principal  objects 
was  to  show  what  opportunities  the  Jews  had  for  knowing  the 
divine  mission  of  Christ,  and  consequently  how  inexcusable 
they  were  in  their  rejection  of  him  ;  and  the  supposition  of 
this  gospel  being  written  after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem, 
suggests  a  reason  for  his  having  such  an  object  in  view. 

The  more  .attention  I  give  to  the  study  of  the  Scriptures,  the 
more  attached  I  am  to  it ;  and  I  hope  the  time  will  come  when 
I  shall  apply  myself  to  it  chiefly.  At  present  I  read  chiefly 
with  a  practical  view  ;  and  the  attentive  consideration  of  the 
facts  in  the  gospel  history  has  certainly  the  strongest  tendency 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XVll 

to  impress  the  heart  and  influence  the  life  in  the  most  favor- 
able manner.  The  more  I  read  the  history  of  the  death  of 
Christ,  in  particular,  the  more  reasons  I  think  I  see  why  he 
was  to  sufl^er  ;  at  least  I  see  the  old  ones  in  a  stronger  light 
and  feel  more  of  their  force.  Other  studies,  and  other  pursuits 
that  to  many  others  are  very  proper  and  useful,  appear  to  me 
to  be  altogether  insignificant  compared  to  these. 

I  am  here  in  the  midst  of  unbelievers,  and  even  atheists. 
I  had  a  long  conversation  with  one,  an  ingenious  man,  and 
good  writer,  who  maintained  seriously  that  man  might  arise, 
without  any  Maker,  from  the  earth.  They  may  despise  me  ; 
I  am  sure  I  despise  and  pity  them." 

About  the  same  time  he  wrote  thus  to  another  friend. 
"  I  was  more  shocked  at  the  superstition  of  the  Catholics 
than  I  expected  to  have  been ;  but  found  some  of  their  priests 
very  intelligent  and  candid,  and  some  of  them  as  truly  Chris- 
tian characters,  in  all  respects,  as  any  sort  can  boast ;  but 
these,  I  believe,  are  few.  The  generality,  I  have  reason  to 
think,  from  the  inquiries  I  have  made,  are  either  very  stupid, 
or  infidels.  Their  philosophers  are  almost  universally  the 
latter. 

"  I  had  a  conversation  of  two  hours  with  a  most  ingenious 
man,  and  a  considerable  writer,  who  maintained  that  man 
might  have  sprung  out  of  the  earth  by  spontaneous  genera- 
tion;  and  I  was  told  by  another,  that  I  was  the  first  believer 
in  Christianity  that  he  had  met  with  of  whose  understanding 
he  had  any  opinion.  I  always  told  them  very  freely,  that  I 
could  easily  account  for  their  infidelity  by  the  very  corrupted 
state  of  their  established  religion,  farther  than  which  they 
plainly  had  not  looked  ;  and  that  they  could  not  pretend  to 
have  studied  the  subject  as  myself  and  other  believers  in 
England  had  done.  However,  I  left  them  all  as  I  had  found 
them ;  and  whether  they  think  better  or  worse  of  me  on  that 
account,  I  am  very  indifterent.  They  could  not  possibly, 
however,  have  shown  more  respect  to  any  body,  than  they  did 
to  me,  especially  on  account  of  my  Observations  on  Air,  which 
h 


XVIU  MEMOIR  OP  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

have  engaged  the  attention  of  almost  all  the  philosophers  on 
the  continent. 

"  I  saw  a  good  deal  of  several  of  the  present  leading  states- 
men of  France.  They  are,  in  general,  philosophical  people, 
very  honest  and  economical,  friends  of  commerce  and  of 
peace.  The  king  is,  on  all  hands,  agreed  to  have  nothing 
at  all  in  him,  and  while  he  is  in  good  hands,  all  will  do  well. 
But  there  are  many  persons  disaffected,  intriguing,  lovers  of 
war,  and  violent  enemies  of  England.  If  these  get  into  power, 
which  is  far  from  being  impossible,  we  shall  certainly  have  a 
war,  and  the  economy  of  the  present  ministers  will  have 
brought  the  nation  into  excellent  order  for  it. 

"  The  present  French  ministry  are  great  friends  of  tolera- 
tion. A  person  who  is  very  much  in  their  confidence  told 
me,  he  hoped  that  in  ten  years  all  religions  would  have  a  full 
toleration  in  France  ;  but  that,  I  am  convinced,  will  be  push- 
ing things  too  fast  for  that  country.  At  present  they  are  mis- 
erably hampered  by  the  censeurs  of  the  press.  The  person 
who  has  translated  my  Treatise  on  Air,  could  not  obtain  leave 
to  insert  that  paragraph  in  the  preface  in  which  I  speak  of  the 
consequence  of  the  spread  of  knowledge  with  respect  to  reli- 
gion. A  person  is  translating  my  Essay  on  Government ;  but 
he  must  print  it  in  Holland,  and  get  it  into  France  clandes- 
tinely. 

"  Upon  the  whole,  I  thought  the  country  by  no  means  a  de- 
sirable one  to  live  in,  or  to  stay  much  in,  and  I  wonder  much 
at  the  taste  of  my  countrymen,  who  spend  so  much  of  their 
time,  and  of  their  money,  there." 

Dr.  Priestley,  in  several  of  his  works,  recurs  to  the  impres- 
sions which  he  received  during  this  visit  to  Paris;  and  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  this  was  one  of  the  circumstances  which 
instigated  him  to  that  perpetual  warfare  against  infidelity, 
and  that  earnest,  never-ceasing  defence  of  Christianhy,  by 
which  his  career  was  distinguished. 

On  his  return  from  Paris,  he  took  up  his  abode  at  Calne, 
Wiltshire,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  which  place  was  the  resi- 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XIX 

dence  of  Lord  Shelburne.  Here  he  spent  the  summer  seasons 
of  the  year,  and  in  winter  accompanied  his  lordship  to  Lon- 
don. This  mode  of  life  continued  for  about  six  years ;  dur- 
ing which  time  he  continued  his  philosophical  experiments 
and  theological  inquiries,  and  published  frequently  on  various 
subjects.  While  at  Leeds  he  had  become  satisfied  that  the 
Arian  doctrine  was  untenable  and  had  adopted  the  Humani- 
tarian ;  he  now  engaged  in  studies  relative  to  the  nature  of 
man,  and  came  to  the  persuasion  that  "  man  is  wholly  mate- 
rial, and  that  the  only  prospect  of  immortality  is  from  the 
Christian  doctrine  of  a  Resurrection."  The  publication  of 
these  opinions  increased  the  odium  with  which  he  was  re- 
garded, and  he  was  represented  as  an  unbeliever  in  revela- 
tion, and  no  better  than  an  atheist.  The  question  of  mate- 
rialism was  made  the  subject  of  an  amicable  controversy  be- 
tween himself  and  his  friend  Dr.  Price,  "  and  remains  a 
proof  of  the  possibility  of  discussing  subjects  mutually  consid- 
ered as  of  the  greatest  importance,  with  the  most  perfect 
good  temper  and  without  the  least  diminution  of  friendship." 
About  this  time,  also,  he  carried  on  a  discussion  in  an  equally 
friendly  tone  with  Dr.  Newcome,  afterwards  archbishop,  on 
the  duration  of  our  Saviour's  ministry. 

On  relinquishing  his  situation  with  Lord  Shelburne,  in 
1780  (who  settled  on  him  an  annuity  for  life  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds).  Dr.  Priestley  took  up  his  abode  at  Bir- 
mingham. He  selected  this  place  because  of  the  facility  it 
afforded  him  in  his  philosophical  inquiries  by  furnishing  the 
best  workmen  of  every  kind,  and  because  of  the  distinguished 
chemists  whose  society  he  could  there  enjoy.  There,  too, 
he  found  a  select  and  valuable  religious  circle,  with  whom 
he  met  statedly  once  a  fortnight,  and  with  whose  aid  he  re- 
commenced the  publication  of  the  "Theological  Repository." 
But  he  could  not  long  continue  a  private  man.  He  soon 
received  an  urgent  invitation  to  become  minister  of  the  New 
Meeting,  as  colleague  with  Mr.  Blythe ;  an  invitation  which 
he  accepted,  with  the  understanding  that  Mr.  Blythe  should 


XX  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

perform  the  duties  of  the  pastoral  care,  while  he  himself  should 
be  limited  to  those  of  the  pulpit  and  the  instruction  of  the 
young.  This  last  was  now,  as  it  had  been  at  Leeds,  a  favor- 
ite object  with  him,  and  he  gave  much  time  to  reduce  it  to  a 
thorough  and  effective  system.  Few  men  perhaps  have  been 
more  successful  than  he  in  conducting  this  part  of  duty,  or 
have  received  warmer  and  more  lasting  expressions  of  gratitude 
from  those  whom  he  thus  benefited.  In  a  letter  of  Mr.  Lind- 
sey,  during  a  visit  to  Birmingham  in  1783,  he  says — "I 
was  surprised  on  the  Sunday  afternoon,  in  going  into  the 
meeting  for  my  hat,  to  see  near  thirty  young  ladies,  some  of 
them,  I  was  told,  married,  seated,  to  be  instructed  in  the 
principles  of  Christianity.  This  was  the  third  class  that  had 
been  before  him  that  day  ;  and  this  is  his  usual  work  every 
Sunday,  added  to  his  officiating  to  the  whole  congregation 
one  part  of  it." 

Another  measure  in  which  he  interested  himself  for  the 
advantage  of  the  congregation  was  an  attempt  to  revive  some 
system  of  church  discipline  among  them.  He  was  strongly 
persuaded  that  great  injury  had  resulted  to  the  Dis.senters, 
and  to  the  cause  of  religion  among  them,  from  their  negli- 
gence in  this  particular  ;  and  had  some  time  before  set  forth 
his  views  in  an  Essay  on  Church  Discipline.  He  now  urged 
the  subject  on  the  attention  of  his  congregation  in  a  sermon, 
which  was  published  at  their  request,  and  the  suggestions  of 
which  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  readily  adopted. 

This  period  of  his  ministry  in  Birmingham  was  marked 
by  the  same  industrious  habits  of  study  which  had  distin- 
guished the  preceding  portions  of  his  life.  Among  the  most 
important  of  his  works  were  the  "  History  of  the  Corruptions 
of  Christianity,"  and  the  "  Hi.story  of  Early  Opinions  re- 
specting Jesus  Christ ;  "  works  which  gave  rise  to  that  cele- 
brated controversy  in  which  Dr.  Horsley  was  particularly 
notorious.  This  period  was  likewise  distinguished  by  numer- 
ous publications  on  the  Evidences  of  Christianity,  and  by  an 
annual  pamphlet  entitled  "  Defences  of  Unitarianism  ; "  hav- 


MEMOIR  OF  0R,  PRIESTLEY.  XXI 

ing  for  its  object  to  examine  and  reply  to  whatever  had  been 
written  against  Unitarianism  during  the  preceding  year.  So 
much  activity  and  perseverance  on  his  part  tended  to  excite 
the  severe  displeasure  of  his  theological  opponents,  especially 
of  those  who  were  connected  with  the  established  church  ; 
and  he  was  attacked  and  answered  in  the  most  virulent  style 
of  party  denunciation.  Dr.  Horsley  especially,  and  two  cler- 
gymen of  Birmingham,  Mr.  Madan  and  Mr.  Burn*,  gained  a 
sad  preeminence  by  the  abusiveness  of  their  manner,  and  did 
their  full  share  toward  exasperating  the  public  mind,  and 
bringing  on  the  catastrophe  which  followed. 

The  state  of  the  times  was  peculiar,  full  of  causes  of  con- 
vulsion and  peril.  The  French  Revolution  was  breaking  out, 
and  the  whole  English  community  was  agitated  by  sympathy 
and  alarm.  Priestley,  with  his  friends,  took  side  with  those 
who  saw  every  thing  to  hope  from  this  political  movement, 
and  thus  made  himself  obnoxious  to  the  party  in  power,  who 
saw  every  thing  to  fear  and  abhor.  At  the  same  time  the 
Dissenters  were  strenuously  exerting  themselves  to  extort 
from  Parliament  an  acknowledgment  of  their  rights  and  a 
restoration  to  perfect  religious  liberty  ;  and  here,  too,  Priest- 
ley made  himself  obnoxious  to  those  in  power,  who  saw  noth- 
ing in  the  acknowledgment  of  these  claims,  but  the  ruin  of 
the  church  and  the  overthrow  of  Christianity.  Upon  these 
subjects  Priestley  published  very  little  ;  but  that  little  attract- 
ed great  attention  from  the  eminence  of  the  man,  and  was 
offensive  from  the  plain  and  unguarded  style  of  remark  which 

*  At  a  public  meeting  in  1825,  Mr.  Burn  took  occasion  to  recur  to 
his  share  in  these  controversies.  He  said,  "  that  had  ho  to  live  his 
past  life  over  again,  he  should  have  to  correct  the  asperity  of  feelings 
and  expressions  which  it  was  his  misfortune  to  have  used  in  his  con- 
troversies with  a  late  respectable  and  highly  talented  individual  (Dr.  P.) 
Whatever  degree  of  error  there  might  have  been  in  that  procedure,  h« 
begged  to  say  that  it  did  not  arise  from  any  disrespect  to  that  highly 
respected  individual,  but  from  what  he  then  considered  to  be  his 
duty." 


XXU  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

was  characteristic  of  him.  Passages  were  unfairly  quoted 
and  commented  on  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  pains 
taken  to  convince  the  people  everywhere  that  he,  with  other 
Dissenters,  was  engaged  in  a  plot  for  the  destruction  of  the 
church  and  the  establishment  of  republican  government.  It 
consequently  became  a  favorite  toast  of  the  day,  "  Damnation 
and  confusion  to  the  Presbyterians."  To  fan  the  flame  yet 
more,  falsehoods  of  the  most  atrocious  character  respecting 
him  were  published  and  circulated,  and  caricature  prints 
were  scattered  abroad  to  help  persuade  the  multitude  that  he 
was  an  atheist.  One  of  these  was  entitled.  Sedition  and  Athe- 
ism defeated.  Silas  Deane  is  represented  on  his  death-bed. 
A  clergyman  stands  by  him,  holding  up  his  hands  and  ex- 
claiming, "  No  God  !  Avho  taught  you  that  doctrine  ?  "  The 
dying  man  replies,  "  Dr.  Priestley."  A  note  is  annexed  to 
the  print,  saying,  "  The  particulars  of  this  awful  and  inter- 
esting conversion  to  atheism  may  be  seen  in  a  pamphlet  en- 
titled Theodosius,  and  sold  with  or  without  the  print."  This 
pamphlet  was  industriously  circulated,  and  Dr.  Priestley  was 
obliged  to  publish  a  formal  refutation  of  the  unprincipled 
slander. 

In  a  ballad  written  and  sung  against  the  Dissenters  at 
this  time,  was  the  following  stanza. 

"  Sedition  is  their  creed  ; 

Feigned  sheep,  but  wolves  indeed, 

How  can  we  trust  .■' 
Gunpowder  Priestley  would 
Deluge  the  throne  with  blood, 
And  lay  the  great  and  good 
Low  in  the  dust." 

"  Dr.  Priestley,"  said  one  of  the  pamphlets  printed  at  this 
time,  "  seems  a  chaos  in  miniature,  not  worth  God's  notice, 
has  neither  belief  nor  understanding  given  him.  For  a 
careful  analysis  proves  his  spirit  of  the  order  of  rebelling 
angels,  his  principles  frothy  and  fiery,  like  fixed  and  inflam- 
mable air,  mixed  with  gunpowder,  his  body  a  terra  damnata, 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXlll 

and  the  whole  compound  a  devil  incarnate."  The  clergy 
lent  themselves  eagerly  to  this  work.  It  was  continually 
sounded  from  their  pulpits  in  Birmingham  and  in  other  pla- 
ces, that  he  was  a  declared  enemy  to  revelation  and  a  setter 
up  of  reason  in  its  stead ;  that  he  had  publicly  said,  he  would 
never  rest  till  he  had  pulled  down  that  impostor  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  a  preacher  in  Bristol  even  reported  from  the  pulpit,  that 
he  had  said  he  would  rather  be  damned  than  be  saved  by 
Jesus  Christ.  By  such  means  was  the  public  mind  poisoned 
and  inflamed.  The  passions  of  the  vulgar  were  worked  up 
to  the  proper  pitch.  On  the  walls  of  the  houses,  along  the 
streets,  were  written  in  large  characters,  Bladan  for  ever, 
damn  Priestley,  no  Presbyterians,  damn  the  Presbyterians  ; 
and  even  the  boys,  leaving  their  play  as  he  passed  by,  once 
followed  him  shouting  Damn  Priestley,  damn  him,  damn 
him,  for  ever,  for  ever,  for  ever.  It  had  thus  become  evident 
that  only  a  fit  occasion  was  wanting,  and  the  populace  would 
be  found  prepared  for  any  act  of  violence  that  might  be  de- 
sired at  their  hands.     Such  an  occasion  arose. 

It  was  proposed  by  the  friends  of  the  Frencli  Revolution 
in  Birmingham  to  celebrate  that  great  event  by  a  public  din- 
ner, on  the  14th  of  July,  1791.  This  was  the  occasion  seized 
upon  for  unchaining  the  fury  of  the  party  mob.  It  was  un- 
derstood and  spoken  of  in  London  beforehand.  A  clergyman 
at  Worcester  said  "  it  was  brewing,"  the  day  before  it  hap- 
pened. When  the  day  came,  between  eighty  and  ninety 
gentlemen  dined,  as  they  had  proposed,  at  the  hotel. 

"  When  the  company  met,"  says  Dr.  Priestley,  in  his  own 
account,  "  a  crowd  was  assembled  at  the  door,  and  some  of 
them  hissed,  and  showed  other  marks  of  disapprobation,  but 
no  material  violence  was  offered  to  any  body.  Mr.  Keir,  a 
member  of  the  church  of  England,  took  the  chair  ;  and  when 
they  had  dined,  drank  the  toasts,  and  sung  the  songs  which 
had  been  prepared  for  the  occasion,  they  dispersed.  This 
was  about  five  o'clock,  and  the  town  remained  quiet  till  about 
eight.      It  was  evident,  therefore,  that  the  dinner  was  not  the 


XXIV  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

proper  cause  of  the  riot  which  followed  :  but  that  the  mischief 
had  been  pre-concerted,  and  that  this  particular  opportunity 
was  laid  hold  of  for  the  purpose. 

Some  days  before  this  meeting,  a  few  copies  of  a  printed 
hand-bill  of  an  inflammatory  nature  had  been  found  in  a 
public-house  in  the  town,  and  of  this,  great  use  was  made  to 
inflame  the  minds  of  the  people  against  the  Dissenters,  to 
whom,  though  without  any  evidence  whatever,  it  was  confi- 
dently ascribed.  The  thing  itself  did  not  deserve  any  notice, 
and  paragraphs  of  as  seditious  a  nature  frequently  appear  in 
the  public  newspapers  and  other  publications,'and  (as  would, 
no  doubt,  have  been  the  case  with  this)  are  neglected  and  for- 
gotten. But  the  magistrates  of  Birmingham,  and  other  known 
enemies  to  the  Dissenters,  were  loud  in  their  exclamations 
against  it,  though  perhaps  fabricated  for  the  use  that  was 
made  of  it ;  and  a  copy  was  ofiiciously  sent  to  the  secretaries 
of  state,  who  ordered  a  strict  inquiry  to  be  made,  after  the 
author,  printer,  or  distributor  ;  and  in  consequence  of  this,  a 
reward  of  a  hundred  pounds  was  offered  for  the  discovery  of 
any  of  them. 

In  consequence  of  all  this  preparation,  we  were  informed 
that,  though  the  trade  of  Birmingham  had  never  been  more 
brisk,  so  that  hands  could  not  be  found  to  manufacture  the 
goods  that  were  ordered,  many  of  the  public-houses  were  that 
day  full  of  people,  whose  horrid  execrations  against  the  Dis- 
senters were  heard  into  the  streets ;  and  it  has  been  asserted, 
that  some  of  the  master  manufacturers  had  shut  up  their  work 
shop,  and  thereby  left  their  men  at  full  liberty  for  any  mis- 
chief 

It  has  since  appeared,  that  besides  the  dinner  at  the  hotel, 
there  were  also  meetings  of  the  opposite  party  on  this  14th  of 
July  ;  some  of  whom  had  distributed  copies  of  a  letter  signed 
by  Dr.  Tatham.  This  seemed  to  increase  the  animosity  of 
the  lower  class  of  people,  with  whom  the  common  alehouses 
were  filled.  Some  of  these  meetings  did  not  rise  from  their 
entertainment  so  early,  or  with  so  much  sobriety,  as  those  who 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXV 

dined  at  the  hotel ;  and  it  was  at  the  breaking  up  of  their 
companies  that  the  riots  commenced.  Let  the  impartial, 
then,  judge  to  which  of  the  dinners  the  riot  that  followed  is  to 
be  ascribed. 

Mr.  Adam  Walker,  the  ingenious  and  well-known  lecturer 
in  Natural  Philosophy,  was  passing  through  the  town  with  his 
wife  and  family,  and  dined  with  me  at  my  own  house,  for  the 
last  time,  on  that  day.  Before  dinner,  I  had  walked  to  the 
town  with  him,  and  they  left  me  in  the  evening.  Some  time 
after  this,  three  of  my  intimate  friends,  whose  houses  were 
situated  near  the  same  road,  and  farther  from  the  town  than 
mine,  called  upon  me  to  congratulate  me,  and  one  another, 
on  the  dinner  having  passed  over  so  well ;  and  after  chatting 
cheerfully  some  time  on  the  subject,  they  left  me  just  as  it 
was  beginning  to  be  dark. 

After  supper,  when  I  was  preparing  to  amuse  myself,  as 
I  sometime"S  did,  with  a  game  of  backgammon,  we  were 
alarmed  by  some  young  men  rapping  violently  at  the  door  ;  and 
when  they  Avere  admitted,  they  appeared  to  be  almost  breath- 
less with  running.  They  said  that  a  great  mob  had  assem- 
bled at  the  hotel,  where  the  company  had  dined ;  that  after 
breaking  the  windows  there,  they  were  gone  to  the  New 
Meeting  and  were  demolishing  the  pulpit  and  the  pews,  and 
that  they  threatened  me  and  my  house.  That  they  should 
think  of  molesting  me,  I  thought  so  improbable,  that  I  could 
hardly  give  any  credit  to  the  story.  However,  imagining 
that  perhaps  some  of  the  mob  might  come  to  insult  me,  I  was 
prevailed  upon  to  leave  the  house,  and  meant  to  go  to  some 
neighbour's  at  a  greater  distance  from  the  town ;  but  having 
no  apprehension  for  the  house  itself,  or  any  thing  in  it,  I  only 
went  up  stairs,  and  put  some  papers  and  other  things  of  value, 
where  I  thought  that  any  persons  getting  into  the  house  would 
not  easily  find  them.  My  wife  did  the  same  with  some  things 
of  hers.  I  then  bade  the  servants  keep  the  doors  fastened ; 
if  any  body  should  come,  to  say  that  I  was  gone,  and  if  any 
stones  should  be  thrown  at  the  windows,  to  keep  themselves 


XXVI  MEMOIR  OP  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

out  of  danger,  and  that  I  did  not  doubt  but  they  would  go 
away  again. 

At  this  time,  which  was  about  half-past  nine  o'clock,  Mr. 
S.  Ryland,  a  friend  of  mine,  came  with  a  chaise,  telling  us 
there  was  no  time  to  lose,  but  that  we  must  immediately  get 
into  it  and  drive  off.  Accordingly,  we  got  in  with  nothing 
more  than  the  clothes  we  happened  to  have  on,  and  drove  from 
the  house.  But  hearing  that  the  mob  consisted  only  of  people 
on  foot,  and  concluding  that  when  they  found  I  was  gone 
off  in  a  chaise,  they  could  not  tell  whither,  they  would  never 
think  of  pursuing  me,  we  went  no  farther  than  Mr.  Russell's, 
a  mile  on  the  same  road,  and  there  we  continued  several 
hours,  Mr.  Russell  himself,  and  other  persons,  being  upon  the 
road  on  horseback  to  get  intelligence  of  what  was  passing. 
I  also  more  than  once  walked  about  halfway  back  to  my  own 
house  for  the  same  purpose ;  and  then  I  saw  the  fires  from 
the  two  meeting-houses,  which  were  burning  down. 

About  twelve  we  were  told  that  some  hundreds  of  the  mob 
were  breaking  into  my  house,  and  that  when  they  had  de- 
molished it  they  would  certainly  proceed  to  Mr.  Russell's. 
We  were  persuaded,  therefore,  to  get  into  the  chaise  again, 
and  drive  off;  but  we  went  no  farther  than  Mr.  Thomas 
Hawkes's,  on  Moseley-Green,  which  is  not  more  than  half  a 
mile  farther  from  the  town,  and  there  we  waited  all  the  night. 

It  being  remarkably  calm,  and  clear  moonlight,  we  could 
see  to  a  considerable  distance,  and  being  upon  a  rising  ground, 
we  distinctly  heard  all  that  passed  at  the  house,  every  shout 
of  the  mob,  and  almost  every  stroke  of  the  instruments  they 
had  provided  for  breaking  the  doors  and  the  furniture.  For 
they  could  not  get  any  fire,  though  one  of  them  was  heard  to 
offer  two  guineas  for  a  lighted  candle ;  my  son,  whom  we 
left  behind  us,  having  taken  the  precaution  to  put  out  all  the 
fires  in  the  house,  and  others  of  my  friends  got  all  the  neigh- 
bours to  do  the  same.  I  afterwards  heard  that  much  pains 
was  taken,  but  without  effect,  to  get  fire  from  my  large  elec- 
trical machine,  which  stood  in  the  library. 


MEMOIR  OP  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXVU 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  noises  ceased  ;  and 
Mr.  Russell  and  my  son  coming  to  us,  said  that  the  mob  was 
almost  dispersed,  that  not  more  than  twenty  of  them  remain- 
ed, and  those  so  much  intoxicated,  that  they  might  easily  be 
taken.  We,  therefore,  returned  with  him,  and  about  four 
o'clock  were  going  to  bed  at  his  house.  But  when  I  was  un- 
dressing myself  for  that  purpose,  news  came  that  there  was  a 
fresh  accession  of  some  hundreds  more  to  the  mob,  and  that 
they  were  advancing  towards  Mr.  Russell's.  On  this  we  got 
into  the  chaise  once  more,  and  driving  through  a  part  of  the 
town  distant  from  the  mob,  we  went  to  Dudley,  and  thence 
to  my  son-in-law's,  Mr.  Finch,  at  Heath-Forge,  five  miles 
farther,  where  we  arrived  before  breakfast,  and  brought  the 
first  news  of  our  disaster. 

Here  I  thought  myself  perfectly  safe,  and  imagining  that 
when  the  mischief  was  over  (and  I  had  no  idea  of  its  going 
beyond  my  own  house),  and  supposing  that,  as  the  people 
in  general  would  be  ashamed  and  concerned  at  what  had 
happened,  I  might  return  ;  thinking  also  that  the  area  within 
the  walls  of  the  meeting-house  might  soon  be  cleared,  I 
intended,  if  the  weather  would  permit,  to  preach  there  the 
Sunday  following,  and  from  this  text  — "  Father,  forgive 
them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

At  noon,  however,  we  had  an  express  from  Stourbridge, 
to  acquaint  us  that  the  mob  had  traced  me  to  Dudley,  and 
would  pursue  me  to  Heati<.  To  this  I  paid  no  attention,  nor 
to  another  fi-om  Dudley  in  the  evening  to  inform  us  of  the 
same  thing  ;  and  being  in  want  of  sleep,  I  went  to  bed  soon 
after  ten.  But  at  eleven  I  was  awaked,  and  told  that  a  third 
express  was  just  arrived  from  Dudley,  to  assure  us  that  some 
persons  were  certainly  in  pursuit  of  me,  and  would  be  there 
that  night.  All  the  family  believing  this  and  urging  me  to 
,  make  my  escape,  I  dressed  myself,  got  on  horseback,  and 
with  a  servent  rode  to  Bridgenorth,  where  I  arrived  about  two 
in  the  morning. 

After  about  two  hours'  sleep  in  this  place,  I  got  into  a 


XXVIH  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

chaise,  and  went  to  Kidderminster,  on  my  way  to  London. 
Here  I  found  myself  among  my  friends,  and,  as  I  thought, 
far  enough  from  the  scene  of  danger,  especially  as  we  con- 
tinually heard  news  from  Birmingham,  and  that  the  mischief 
did  not  extend  beyond  the  town.  Hearing,  particularly,  that 
all  was  quiet  at  Dudley,  I  concluded  that  there  could  be  no 
real  cause  of  apprehension  at  Heath;  and,  being  unwilling 
to  go  farther  than  was  necessary,  I  took  a  horse,  and  arrived 
there  in  the  evening. 

There,  however,  I  found  the  family  in  great  consternation 
at  the  sight  of  me  ;  and  Mr.  Finch  just  arriving  from  Dudley, 
and  saying  that  they  were  in  momentary  expectation  of  a  riot 
there,  that  the  populace  were  even  assembled  in  the  street, 
and  were  heard  to  threaten  the  meeting-house,  the  house  of 
the  minister,  and  those  of  other  principal  Dissenters,  and  that 
all  attempts  to  make  them  disperse  had  been  in  vain,  —  I 
mounted  my  horse  again,  though  much  fatigued,  and  greatly 
wanting  sleep. 

My  intention  was,  to  get  to  an  inn  about  six  miles  on  the 
road  to  Kidderminster,  where  I  might  get  a  chaise,  and  in  it 
proceed  to  that  town.  No  chaise,  however,  was  to  be  had  ;  so 
that  I  was  under  the  necessity  of  proceeding  on  horseback, 
and  neither  the  servant  nor  myself  distinguishing  the  road  in 
the  night,  we  lost  our  way,  and  at  break  of  day  found  ourselves 
on  Bridgenorth  race-ground,  having  ridden  nineteen  miles,  till 
we  could  hardly  sit  our  horses. 

Arriving  at  this  place  a  second  time,  about  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  we  with  some  difficulty  roused  the  people  at 
an  indifferent  inn,  and  I  immediately  got  into  bed,  and  slept 
a  few  hours.  After  breakfast,  we  mounted  our  horses,  and  I 
got  a  second  time  to  Kidderminster.  There,  finding  that  if  I 
immediately  took  a  chaise,  and  drove  fast,  I  might  get  to 
Worcester  time  enough  for  the  mail-coach,  I  did  so ;  and 
meeting  with  a  young  man  of  my  own  congregation,  he  ac- 
companied me  thither  ;  which  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  me, 
as  he  acquainted  me  with  many  particulars  of  the  riot  of  which 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXIX 

I  was  before  ignorant.  At  Worcester  I  was  just  time  enough 
for  the  coach,  and  fortunately,  there  was  one  place  vacant. 
I  took  it,  and,  travelling  all  night,  I  got  to  London  on  Monday 
morning,  July  18. 

Here  I  was  in  a  place  of  safety,  and  had  leisure  for  rest 
and  reflection.  I  can  truly  say,  however,  that  in  all  the 
hurry  of  my  flight,  and  while  the  injuries  I  had  received  were 
fresh  upon  my  mind,  I  had  not  one  desponding  or  unbenevo- 
lent  thought.  I  really  pitied  the  delusion  of  the  poor  incen- 
diaries, and  the  infatuation  of  those  who  had  deluded  them, 
and  never  doubted  but  that,  though  I  could  not  tell  how  or 
when,  good  would  arise  from  this,  as  well  as  from  every  other 
evil.  The  magnanimity  of  my  wife  was  never  shaken ;  and, 
as  at  other  times,  she  then  felt  more  for  others  than  she  did 
for  herself  It  was  a  distressing  circumstance,  that  our  daugh- 
ter was  expecting  to  be  brought  to  bed  in  about  a  month,  so 
that  she  was  full  of  alarm,  and  her  mother  could  not  leave 
her  to  accompany  me.  We  were,  however,  as  happy  as  we 
could  be  in  this  state  of  forced  separation  ;  I  with  my  old 
friends  in  London,  and  she  either  with  our  daughter,  or  with 
one  of  the  most  friendly,  generous,  and  worthy  families  in 
the  world,  the  neighbourhood  of  Birmingham." 

"  In  this  situation,  what  I  regretted  most  was  the  loss,  as 
I  then  supposed,  of  all  my  manuscript  papers,*  for  which 
no  reparation  could  be  made.  —  Let  any  man  of  letters,  ar- 

*  They  consisted  of  the  following  particulars  : 

I.  My  "Diaries  "  from  the  year  1/52,  containing  the  particulars  of 
almost  every  day ;  and  at  the  beginning  of  each  of  them  I  had  given 
the  state  of  my  mind,  of  my  afi'airs  in  general,  and  of  my  prospects, 
for  that  year;  which  it  was  often  amusing,  and  also  instructive  to  me, 
to  look  back  upon. 

II.  Several  large  "'  Common-place  Books,"  containing  the  fruits  of 
my  reading  almost  ever  since  I  could  read  WTtli  any  degree  of  judg- 
ment. 

III.  The  "  Register  of  my  Philosophical  Experiments,  and  Hints  for 
new  ones." 

IV    All  my   Sermons,  Prayers,   and    Forms  for  administering  the 


XXX  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

Ik 

rived,  as  I  am,  to  near  the  age  of  sixty,  consider  what  must 
have  been  my  accumulation  of  curious  papers  of  various 
kinds,  from  the  variety  and  extent  of  my  pursuits,  (greater, 
unquestionably,  than  those  of  most  men  now  living,)  and 
think  what  I  could  not  but  have  felt  for  their  loss,  and  their 
dispersion  into  such  hands  as  they   fell  into,  and  who  make. 

Lord's  Supper,  &c.,  many  of  which  I  had,  with  great  expense,  got 
transcribed  into  !i  fair  long  hand. 

V.  "  Notes  and  a  Paraphrase  on  the  whole  of  the  New  Testament, 
excepting  the  Book  of  Revelation."  The  whole  of  it  had  been  deliv- 
ered from  the  pulpit,  and  in  a  preface  to  another  work,  I  had  prom- 
ised to  publish  it.  I  was  within  five  days  (employing  my  amanuensis 
three  hours  a-day)  of  having  the  whole  fairly  transcribed  for  the  press. 
I  had  also  "  Notes  on  all  the  Psalms,"  which  I  had  delivered  from  the 
pulpit. 

VI.  "  A  New  Translation  of  the  Psalms,  Proverbs,  and  Ecclcsias- 
tes  ;  "  having  undertaken,  in  conjunction  with  several  other  Unitari- 
ans, to  make  a  new  translation  of  both  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ment. 

VII.  "  A  Series  of  Letters  to  the  Members  of  the  New  Jerusalem 
Church,"  which  was  lately  opened  in  Birmingham.  These  were  fairly 
transcribed,  and  were  to  have  gone  to  the  press  the  Monday  follow- 
ing ;  and  being  on  the  most  friendly  terms  with  the  minister  and  prin- 
cipal members  of  that  church,  I  had  made  an  appointment  to  meet  them 
on  the  preceding  Friday,  to  read  the  work  to  them  from  the  manu- 
script, in  order  to  be  satisfied  that  I  had  not  misstated  any  of  their 
doctrines,  and  that  I  might  hear  their  objections  to  what  I  had  written. 
A  rough  draft  of  a  great  part  of  these  "  Letters  "  happened  to  be  pre- 
served, in  consequence  of  taking  a  copy  of  them  by  Messrs.  Boulton 
and  Watt's  machine,  and  from  this  I  have  lately  published  them. 

VIIL  "Memoirs  of  my  own  Life,  to  be  published  after  my  death." 

IX.  A  great  number  of  Letters  from  my  friends  and  learned  for- 
eigners, with  other  papers. 

X.  A  short  account  of  all  the  persons  whose  names  are  introduced 
into  my  "  Chart  of  Biography,"  which  I  intended  to  publish,  though 
not  very  soon. 

XL  "  Illustrations  of  Hartley's  Doctrine  of  Association  of  Ideas,  an  d 
farther  Observations  on  the  Human  Mind,"  the  publication  of  which 
I  had  promised  in  the  Preface  to  my  "  Essay  on  Education."  This 
would,  perhaps,   have  been  the  most  original,  and  nearly  the  last  of 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXXI 

as  I  hear,  the  most  indecent  and  improper  use  of  them.  This 
makes  the  case  much  worse  than  that  of  mere  plunder,  and 
the  destruction  of  books  and  papers  by  Goths  and  Vandals, 
who  could  not  read  any  of  them.  It  was,  however,  no  small 
satisfaction  to  me,  to  think  that  my  enemies,  having  the 
freest  access  to  every  paper  I  had,  might  be  convinced  that  I 
had  carried  on  no  treasonable  correspondence,  and  that  I 
had  nothing  to  be  concerned  about  besides  the  effects  of  their 
impertinent  curiosity. 

The  destruction  of  my  library  did  not  affect  me  so  much 
on  account  of  the  money  I  had  expended  upon  it,  as  the 
choice  of  the  books ;  having  had  particular  objects  of  study, 
and  having  collected  them  with  great  care,  as  opportunity 
served,  in  the  course  of  many  years.  It  had  also  been  my 
custom  to  read  almost  every  book  with  a  pencil  in  my  hand, 
marking  the  passages  that  I  wished  to  look  back  to,  and  of 
which  I  proposed  to  make  any  particular  use  ;  and  I  fre- 
quently made  an  index  to  such  passages  on  a  blank  leaf  at 
the  end  of  the  book.  In  consequence  of  this,  other  sets  of 
the  same  work  would  not,  by  any  means,  be  of  the  same  value 
to  me ;  for  I  have  not  only  lost  the  books,  but  the  chief  fruit 
of  my  labor  and  judgment  in  reading  them. 

Also  my  laboratory  not  only  contained  a  set  of  the  most 
valuable  and  useful  instruments  of  every  kind,  and  original 
substances  for  experiments,  but  other  substances,  the  results 

my  publications.  The  hints  and  loose  materials  for  it  were  written 
in  several  volumes,  not  one  scrap  of  which  is  yet  recovered. 

XII.  Besides  these,  I  had  what  had  cost  me  much  labor,  though,  as  I 
did  not  mean  to  make  any  public  use  of  them,  I  do  not  much  regret  their 
loss,  viz.  a  large  course  of  "  Lectures  on  the  Constitution  and  Laws  of 
England,"  and  another  on  "  The  History  of  England,"  which  I  had 
read  when  I  was  tutor  at  WaiTington,  and  of  which  a  syllabus  may  be 
seen  in  the  former  editions  of  my  "Essay  on  Education."  [1765.]  In 
the  same  class  of  manuscripts,  not  much  to  be  regretted,  I  place  a 
great  variety  of  miscellaneous  juvenile  compositions  and  collections, 
of  which  I  occasionally  made  some,  though  not  much,  use. 

XIII.  My  "  Last  Will,  Receipts,  and  Accounts." 


XXXii  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

of  numerous  processes,  reserved  for  farther  experiments,  aa 
every  experienced  chemist  will  suppose ;  and  these  cannot 
be  replaced  without  repeating  the  process  of  many  years. 
No  money  can  repair  damages  of  this  kind.  Also  several 
of  my  instruments  were  either  wholly  or  in  part  of  my  own 
construction,  and  such  as  cannot  be  purchased  any 
where." 

"  One  of  the  most  mortifying  circumstances  in  this  calamity, 
was  the  dispersion  of  a  great  number  of  letters  from  my  pri- 
vate friends,  from  the  earliest  period  of  my  correspondence, 
into  the  hands  of  persons  wholly  destitute  of  generosity  or 
honor.  These  letters  I  had  carefully  arranged,  so  that  I 
could  immediately  turn  to  any  of  them,  when  I  wished  to 
look  back  to  them,  as  a  memorial  of  former  friendships,  or  for 
any  otlier  purpose.  But  they  were  kept  in  a  box  which  was 
ordered  by  my  last  will  to  be  burned  without  inspection. 
Now,  however,  letters  which  I  did  not  wish  even  my  execu- 
tors to  see,  were  exposed,  without  mercy  or  shame,  to  all  the 
world.  No  person  of  honor  will  even  look  into  a  letter  not 
directed  to  himself  But  mine  have  not  only  been  exposed 
to  every  curious,  impertinent  eye,  but,  as  I  am  informed,  are 
eao-erly  perused,  commented  upon,  and  their  sense  perverted, 
in  order  to  find  out  something  against  me. 

Some  of  my  private  papers  are  said  to  have  been  sent  to 
the  secretary  of  state.  But  secretaries  of  state,  I  presume,  a^;e 
ii-entlemcn,  and  consider  themselves  as  bound  by  the  same 
rules  of  justice  and  honor  that  are  acknowledged  to  bind 
other  men,  and  therefore,  if  this  be  the  case,  these  papers  will 
certainly  be  returned  to  me. 

Of  this  kind  of  ill  usage,  I  do  not  accuse  the  illiterate 
mob  who  made  the  devastation  ;  for  few  of  them,  I  suppose, 
could  read  ;  but  those  persons  of  better  education  into  whose 
hands  the  papers  afterwards  came.  Had  persons  of  this  class 
interposed  and  exerted  themselves,  they  might,  no  doubt, 
have  saved  the  greatest  part  of  this,  to  me  most  valuable  prop- 
erty, for  the   loss  of  which  (but  more  especially  for  the  un- 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXXlll 

generous  use  that  was  made  of  it)  no  compensation  can  be 
made  me." 

"  That  the  true  source  of  the  late  riots  in  Birmingham  was 
religious  bigotry,  and  the  animosity  of  the  high-church  party 
against  the  Dissenters,  and  especially  against  the  Presbyte- 
rians and  Unitarians,  and  not  the  commemoration  of  the 
French  Revolution,  is  evident  from  all  that  has  passed  before, 
at,  and  after  the  day. 

In  the  public-houses  where  the  people  were  inflaming 
themselves  with  liquor  all  that  day  and  some  time  before, 
there  were  heard  execrations  of  the  most  horrid  kind  against 
the  Presbyterians.  One  person  was  heard  not  only  to  wish 
damnation  to  them,  but  that  "  God  Almighty  would  make  a 
week's  holiday  for  the  purpose  of  damning  them."  The  mob 
did  not  arrive  at  the  hotel  till  more  than  two  hours  after  the 
company  had  left  it,  and  there  they  demanded  only  myself, 
who  had  not  been  there.  No  part  of  their  vengeance  fell 
upon  any  churchman,  whether  at  the  dinner  or  not.  After 
demolishing  the  two  meeting-houses,  and  every  thing  belong- 
ing to  me,  their  next  objects  were  the  houses  of  Mr.  Taylor 
and  Mr.  John  Ryland,  who  were  well  known  to  have  been 
much  averse  to  the  scheme  of  the  dinner ;  and  durino-  the 
whole  course  of  the  outrages,  the  constant  cry  was  Church 
AND  King,  and  Down  with  the  Presbyterians. 

That  the  celebration  of  the  French  Revolution  was  not 
the  true  cause  of  the  riots,  has  indeed  sufficiently  appeared 
from  the  narrative  part  of  this  work.  That  the  plan  was  laid 
some  time  before,  and  that  proper  persons  were  provided  to 
conduct  it,  is  probable  from  this  circumstance,  that  those  in 
the  mob  who  directed  the  rest  (who  were  evidently  not  of  the 
lowest  class,  and  who  were  sometimes  called  their  leaders), 
were  not  known  to  hundreds  of  all  descriptions  of  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  town,  who  observed  them  attentively ;  so  that 
persons  who  were  no  Dissenters,  concluded  that  they  came 
from  a  distance,  and  probably  from  London.  The  proper 
Birmingham  mob  were  often  persuaded  to  desist  from  their 


XXXIV  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

attempts,  till  they  were  joined  by  these  men,  who  both  insti- 
gated them  to  mischief  and  directed  them  how  to  proceed  in 
the  shortest  and  most  effectual  manner." 

"  The  exultation  of  the  high-church  party,  not  only  in  Bir- 
mingham, but  through  the  kingdom  in  general,  on  the  suc- 
cess of  this  crusade,  was  undisguised  and  boundless.  All 
the  newspapers  both  in  town  and  country,  in  the  conduct  of 
which  they  had  particular  influence,  were  full  of  the  grossest 
abuse  of  the  Dissenters,  and  especially  of  myself,  and  such 
narratives  of  the  proceedings  were  published  as  cannot  be 
accounted  for  from  mistake  or  misapprehension,  but  must 
have  been  wilfully  fabricated  for  the  worst  of  purposes. 

There  were  many  of  the  high-church  party  who  did  not 
hesitate  to  say  that,  if  the  mischief  had  terminated  with  the 
destruction  of  my  house,  and  every  thing  belonging  to  me, 
all  had  been  well.  Some  openly  lamented  that  the  mob  had 
not  seized  me,  or  that  I  had  not  perished  in  the  conflagra- 
tion. One  clergyman  in  a  public  assize  sermon  called  our 
sufferings  wholesome  correction  ;  and  another  declared  that,  if 
all  my  writings  were  put  together,  and  myself  were  placed 
on  the  top  of  them,  he  should  rejoice  to  set  fire  to  the  pile. 

Many  of  the  high-church  party  were  so  for  from  lamenting 
my  sufferings,  or  complaining  of  the  illegal  manner  in  which 
the  mischief  was  done,  that  they  scrupled  not  to  justify  it, 
on  the  pretence,  though  absolutely  groundless,  that  my  writ- 
ings were  hostile  to  the  state  ;  if  not  directly,  yet  indirectly 
so,  as  being  hostile  to  the  church." 

"  But  though  many  of  the  clergy  expressed  the  most  ran- 
corous sentiments  against  us,  there  have  appeared  on  this 
occasion  among  them  men  of  the  most  liberal  minds  and 
principles,  who  expressed  the  greatest  abhorrence  of  the  con- 
duct and  sentiments  of  the  rest  of  their  body,  and  who, 
together  with  some  generous-minded  laity  of  the  Establish- 
ment, were  among  the  first  to  afford  me  the  most  substantial 
assistance." 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXXV 

The  following  letters  written  at  this  time  are  interesting, 
as  helping  to  display  the  character  of  the  occasion  and  of  the 
man. 

"To  Rev.  T.  Lindsey. 

Dudley,  July  15,  1791 . 
Dear  Friend, 

When  I  wrote  my  last,  little  did  I  foresee  what  soon  after 
happened  ;  but  the  will  of  God  be  done. 

The  company  were  hardly  gone  from  the  inn,  before  a 
drunken  mob  rushed  into  the  house,  and  broke  all  the  win- 
dows. They  then  set  fire  to  our  meeting-house,  and  it  is 
burned  to  the  ground.  After  that  they  gutted,  and  some 
say  burned,  the  old  meeting. 

In  the  mean  time,  some  friends  came  to  tell  me  that  I  and 
my  house  were  threatened,  and  another  brought  a  chaise  to 
convey  me  and  my  wife  away.  I  had  not  presence  of  mind 
to  take  even  my  MSS.  ;  and  after  we  were  gone,  the  mob 
came  and  demolished  every  thing,  household  goods,  library, 
and  apparatus.  Indeed,  they  say  the  house  itself  is  almost 
demolished,  but  happily  no  fire  could  be  got,  so  that  many 
things,  but  I  know  not  what,  will  be  saved. 

We  thought  that  when  it  was  day,  the  mob  would  disperse, 
and  therefore  we  kept  in  the  neighbourhood  ;  but  finding 
they  rather  increased,  and  grew  more  outrageous  with  liquor, 
we  were  advised  to  go  off",  and  are  now  on  our  way  to  Heath. 

My  wife  behaves  with  wonderful  courage.  The  recollec- 
tion of  my  lost  MSS.  pains  me  the  most,  especially  my  Notes 
on  the  New  Testament,  which  I  wanted  only  five  days  of  get- 
ting all  transcribed.  But,  I  doubt  not,  all  will  be  for  good  in 
the  end.     I  can  hardly  ever  live  at  Birmingham  again. 

In  great  haste,  with  my  wife's  best  respects,  yours  and  Mrs. 
Lindsey's  most  affectionately. 

I  am  impatient  to  hear  from  you  and  my  son  at  Manches- 
ter.    We  left  William  safe,  though  he  had  been  in  the  mob." 


XXXVl  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

"  To  Mr.  Russell. 

London,  July  29,  1791. 
Dear  Sir, 
I  AM  willing  to  hope,  from  the  account  of  Mr.  Lewis  and 
others,  that  your  inquiry  goes  on  pretty  well,  though  not  so 
well  as  you  once  expected.  Every  thing  I  find,  as  I  expected, 
depends  upon  yourself,  and  I  much  fear  your  health  will  suffer 
by  your  constant  exertions.  I  hope,  however,  you  are  ap- 
prised of  this,  and  that  you  are  not  insensible  how  much  de- 
pends upon  your  valuable  life.  May  God  preserve  you,  and 
give  a  happy  termination  to  this  affair. 

On  Wednesday  I  dined  with  Mr.  Sheridan,  in  order,  as  he 
said,  to  meet  Mr.  Fox,  who,  however,  was  not  there,  but  de- 
sired Mr.  Sheridan  to  tell  me  that  he  was  ready  to  take  the 
matter  up  in  the  House  of  Commons  in  whatever  manner  we 
should  think  proper.  They  conceive  that  the  encouragement 
oriven  by  the  court  to  the  high-church  party  was  intended  to 
crush  Mr.  Fox,  and  those  who  took  our  part,  and  to  intimi- 
date both  them  and  us.  I  cannot,  however,  think  that  there 
is  much  in  this,  and  I  am  very  unwilling  to  connect  our 
cause  with  that  of  any  political  party,  as,  upon  the  face  of  it, 
it  is  evidently  of  a  purely  religious  nature.  I  therefore  differ 
from  most  of  our  friends  here,  and  wish,  with  you,  to  show 
no  distrust  of  government,  since  our  end  will  be  answered, 
whether  they  appear  in  earnest  to  redress  our  grievances  or 
not.  Our  tribunal  is  our  country  and  the  world  ;  and  before 
this  our  court,  as  well  as  ourselves,  must  appear,  and  we  can- 
not doubt  an  equitable  decision. 

The  same  bad  spirit  pervades  the  whole  kingdom,  though 
the  storm  was,  I  doubt  not,  directed  to  break  out  here.  Had 
Dr.  Price  been  living,  it  is  taken  for  granted  that  Hackney 
would  have  suffered  as  much  as  Birmingham,  and  that  the 
College  would  not  have  been  spared.  Mr.  Walker's  letter, 
which  I  enclose,  and  which  I  wish  you  to  preserve,  will  show 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXXVU 

you  the  spirit  that  prevails  at  Manchester,  and  we  have  simi- 
lar accounts  from  all  the  west  of  England.  It  is,  indeed,  an 
alarming  crisis  that  things  are  come  to.  But  we  cannot 
doubt  that  a  wise  and  good  Providence  superintends  and 
directs  the  whole.  I  long  to  be  with  you  on  many  accounts. 
Mr.  Keir  thinks  it  had  better  be  soon  than  later.  It  may, 
however,  be,  advisable  to  defer  it,  till  the  legal  inquiry  be 
over. 

With  my  earnest  prayers  and  best  wishes,  and  with  re- 
spects to  all  my  friends,  especially  my  fellow-sufferers,  I  am, 
dear  Sir,  yours  sincerely." 

No  reflection  need  be  made  on  this  disgraceful  history  ex- 
cepting in  the  words  of  Robert  Hall,  who  says,  that  "  to  the 
unenlightened  eyes  of  posterity  it  will  appear  a  reproach,  that 
in  the  eighteenth  century,  an  age  that  boasts  its  science  and 
improvement,  —  the  first  Philosopher  in  Europe,  of  a  charac- 
ter unblemished  and  of  manners  the  most  mild  and  gentle, 
should  be  torn  from  his  family,  and  obliged  to  flee  an  outcast 
and  a  fugitive  from  the  murderous  hands  of  a  frantic  rabble ; 
—  but  when  they  learn  that  there  were  not  wanting  teachers 
of  religion  who  secretly  triumphed  in  these  barbarities,  they 
will  pause  for  a  moment  and  imagine  that  they  are  reading 
the  history  of  Goths  or  of  Vandals." 

But  there  were  every  where  some  to  be  found  to  sympathize 
with  the  sufferer,  and  addresses  of  condolence  and  respect 
were  made  to  him  from  public  bodies,  religious,  political, 
and  scientific,  both  in  England  and  in  France.  Of  all  these, 
none,  he  says,  gave  him  so  much  satisfaction  as  those  from 
his  late  congregation,  and  especially  from  the  young  persons 
belonging  to  it  who  had  attended  his  classes  for  religious 
instruction.  His  whole  correspondence  with  them  is  de- 
lightful and  affecting.  The  following  extract  of  the  second 
letter  from  the  young  people  is  a  specimen. 


XXXVlll  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

"  From  the  Young  People  of  the  New  Meeting. 

Birmingham,  August  22,  1791. 
Dear  and  respected  Sir, 

Permit  us  to  indulge  our  feelings  in  again  addressing  you. 

When  assurances  of  gratitude  and  attachment  are  not 
necessary,  there  is  a  gratification  in  expressing  the  prevail- 
ing sentiments  of  the  heart;  and  when  you,  Sir,  are  the 
object,  we  feel  no  common  ardor.  We  have  too  much  con- 
fidence in  your  goodness,  and  have  had  too  many  proofs  of 
your  affectionate  regard  to  our  happiness,  to  imagine  you  will 
think  us  troublesome. 

We  have  received  your  affectionate  and  animating  letter. 
Our  tears  spoke  our  feelings.  We  cannot  express  them.  Lan- 
guage is  feeble  and  inadequate.  But  we  will  bind  your  in- 
structions to  our  hearts.  While  we  remember  whose  pupils 
we  have  been,  we  cannot  act  unworthily.  We  can  never 
sufficiently  express  our  sense  of  the  obligation  you  have  con- 
ferred upon  us,  but  we  dwell  upon  the  subject  with  too  much 
pleasure  to  omit  any  opportunity  of  renewing  it.  To  you,  Sir, 
we  are  indebted  for  the  desire  of  improvement.  You  have 
given  us  habits  of  employing  our  leisure  hours  in  the  cultiva- 
tion of  our  understandings,  in  pursuits  that  afford  delight  and 
advantage,  and  which  are  calculated  to  raise  us  higher  in  the 
scale  of  being.  The  love  of  virtue  you  have  implanted  in 
us  by  precept  and  example.  We  will  guard  and  cherish  it ; 
and  while  we  enjoy  the  fruits  of  it,  our  souls  exulting  shall 
bless  you.  You  have  deprived  adversity  of  its  sting,  and  have 
enabled  us  to  extend  our  views  with  satisfaction  beyond  the 
world,  by  impressing  our  minds  with  the  strongest  evidence  of 
the  great  truths  of  Christianity.  These  advantages,  Sir,  we 
have  received  from  you.  We  feel  their  importance,  and  will 
diffuse  them  as  far  as  our  influence  extends.  It  shall  be  our 
grand  object  to  endeavour  to  follow  your  example  in  a  firm 
adherence  to  what  we  believe  to  be  the  cause  of  truth,  in  pre- 
serving our  minds  open  to  conviction,   and  in  the  cultivation 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  XXXIX 

of  fortitude,  patience  and  charity.  We  have,  indeed ,  no  slight 
trial  of  the  latter,  when  we  behold  the  enlightened  and  benev- 
olent friend  of  all  mankind,  whose  life  has  invariably  exhib- 
ited, and  whose  instructions  have  ever  enforced,  the  practice 
of  every  mild  and  gentle  virtue,  treated  with  a  cruelty  which 
would  disgrace  a  barbarous  age.  But  we  will  remember  our 
principles,  the  principles.  Sir,  we  have  imbibed  from  you,  and 
will  say,  in  the  language  of  philosophy  and  Christianity,  De- 
luded men,  we  pity  you  :  may  your  hearts  be  turned,  and 
your  errors  forgiven  !" 

It  is  gratifying  to  know  that  these  addresses  were  not  con- 
fined to  one  party,  but  that  many  forgot  their  differences  and 
prejudices  in  the  desire  to  do  justice  to  an  injured  man. 
"  However  some  of  us,"  they  say,  "  may  differ  from  you  in 
several  doctrinal  opinions,  we  are  well  convinced  of  the  integ- 
rity of  your  character,  and  think  ourselves  highly  obliged  to 
you  for  your  services  in  the  cause  of  religious  and  civil  lib- 
erty. In  this  cause  we  respect  you  as  a  confessor  ;  and  ad- 
mire the  magnanimity  and  meekness,  equally  honorable  to 
the  man  and  the  Christian,  with  which  you  have  borne  the 
losses  you  have  sustained.  The  approbation  of  your  own 
mind,  the  esteem  of  the  friends  of  freedom,  and  the  persua- 
sion that  your  personal  misfortunes,  under  the  direction  of  a 
wise  and  benevolent  Providence,  will  finally  prove  conducive 
to  public  good,  will,  we  doubt  not,  still  continue  to  afford  you 
support,  and  enable  you  to  rejoice,  even  in  tribulation." 

It  was  not  by  words  only  that  he  was  cheered  in  his  trial. 
He  received  relief  in  large  donations  of  money  from  various 
persons  and  bodies  of  men  ;  among  the  rest  a  subscription  of 
thirty  pounds  from  a  society  of  Calvinists.  So  that  his  pe- 
cuniary losses  were  made  up  to  him,  as  he  states,  though 
what  was  awarded  to  him  by  the  courts  of  law  fell  two  thou- 
sand pounds  short  of  them.  His  friends  in  London  gave  him 
an  asylum ;  and  after  it  was  found  tl\at  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  return  to  Birmingham,  the  congregation  in 
Hackney,  recently  under  the  charge  of  Dr.  Price,  invited  him 


Xl  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

to  become  their  pastor,  and  he  was  settled  there  in  Novem- 
ber the  same  year.  Here  then,  four  months  only  after  the 
riots,  he  was  quietly  seated  again  at  his  wonted  employments ; 
knowing  that  the  most  virulent  ill  will  was  existing  towards 
him  in  various  quarters,  and  subjected  to  many  vexatious 
annoyances,  yet  calmly  and  happily  pursuing  his  studies  as 
a  philosopher  and  divine,  and  seeking  as  always  to  do  good 
to  the  world  by  the  eftbrts  of  his  pen.  "  I  found  myself,"  he 
says,  "  as  happy  as  I  had  been  at  Birmingham  ;  and,  con- 
trary to  general  expectation,  I  opened  my  lectures  to  young 
persons  with  great  success,  being  attended  by  many  from 
London ;  and  though  I  lost  some  of  the  hearers,  I  left  the 
congregation  in  a  better  situation  than  that  in  which  I  found  it. 
On  the  whole,  I  spent  my  time  even  more  happily  at 
Hackney  than  ever  I  had  done  before,  having  every  advan- 
tage for  my  philosophical  and  theological  studies,  in  some 
respect  superior  to  what  I  had  enjoyed  at  Birmingham  ;  espe- 
cially from  my  easy  access  to  Mr.  Lindsey,  and  my  frequent 
intercourse  with  Mr.  Belsham,  professor  of  divinity  in  the 
New  College,  near  which  I  lived.  Never,  on  this  side  the 
grave,  do  I  expect  to  enjoy  myself  so  much  as  I  did  by  the 
fireside  of  Mr.  Lindsey,  conversing  with  him  and  Mrs.  Lind- 
sey on  theological  and  other  subjects,  or  in  my  frequent  walks 
with  Mr.  Belsham,  whose  views  of  most  important  subjects 
were,  like  Mr.  Lindsey's  the  same  with  my  own." 

But  after  a  little  more  than  two  years,  he  was  convinced 
that  continuance  in  this  situation  was  impossible,  and  he  pre- 
pared to  withdraw  from  it.  We  give  the  account  in  his  own 
words.*  "  After  the  riots  in  Birmingham,  it  was  the  expecta- 
tion, and  evidently  the  wish  of  many  persons,  that  I  should  im- 
mediately fly  to  France  or  America.  But  I  had  no  conscious- 
ness of  guilt  to  induce  me  to  fly  from  my  country.!     On  the 


•  Preface  to  his  Fast  Sermon,  1704. 

t  "  If,  instead  of  flying  from  lawless  violence  I  had  been  flying  from 
public    justice,  I  could  not    have  been  pursued  with  more  rancor, 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  xli 

contrary,  I  came  directly  to  London,  and  instantly,  by  means 
of  my  friend,  Mr  Russell,  signified  to  the  king's  ministers, 
that  I  was  there,  and  ready,  if  they  thought  proper,  to  be  in- 
terrogated on  the  subject  of  the  riot.  But  no  notice  was 
taken  of  the  message. 

Ill  treated  as  I  thought  I  had  been,  not  merely  by  the 
populace  of  Birmingham,  for  they  were  the  mere  tools  of 
their  superiors,  but  by  the  country  in  general,  which  evidently 
exulted  in  our  sufferings,  and  afterwards  by  the  representa- 
tives of  the  nation,  who  refused  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of 
them,  I  own  I  was  not  without  deliberating  upon  the  subject 
of  emigration  ;  and  several  flattering  proposals  were  made 
me,  especially  from  France,  which  was  then  at  peace  within 
itself,  and  with  all  the  world  ;  and  I  was  at  one  time  much 
inclined  to  go  thither,  on  account  of  its  nearness  to  England, 
the  agreeableness  of  its  climate,  and  my  having  many  friends 
there. 

But  I  likewise  considered  that,  if  I  went  thither,  I  should 
have  no  employment  of  the  kind  to  which  I  had  been  accus- 
tomed ;  and  the  season  of  active  life  not  being,  according  to  the 
course  of  nature,  quite  over,  I  wished  to  make  as  much  use 
of  it  as  I  could.  I  therefore  determined  to  continue  in  Eng- 
land, exposed  as  I  was  not  only  to  unbounded  obloquy  and 
insult,  but  to  every  kind  of  outrage  ;  and   after  my  invitation 


nor  could  my  friends  have  been  more  anxious  for  my  safety.  One 
man,  who  happened  to  see  me  on  horseback  on  one  of  the  nights  in 
which  I  escaped  from  Birmingham,  expressed  his  regret  that  he  had 
not  taken  me,  expecting  probably  some  considerable  reward,  as  he 
said,  it  was  so  easy  for  him  to  have  done  it.  My  friends  earnestly 
advised  me  to  disguise  myself,  as  I  was  going  to  London.  But  all 
that  was  done  in  that  way,  was  taking  a  place  for  me  in  the  mail- 
coach,  which  I  entered  at  Worcester,  in  another  name  than  my  own. 
However,  the  friend  who  had  the  courage  to  receive  me  in  London, 
had  thought  it  necessary  to  provide  a  dress  that  should  disguise  mo,  and 
also  a  method  of  making  my  escape,  in  case  the  house  should  have 
been  attacked  on  my  account  ;  and  for  some  time  my  friends  would 
not  suffer  me  to  appear  in  the  streets." 


xlii 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


to  succeed  my  friend,  Dr.  Price,  I  had  no  hesitation  about  it. 
Accordingly  I  took  up  my  residence  where  I  now  am,  though 
so  prevalent  was  the  idea  of  my  insecurity,  that  I  was  not 
able  to  take  the  house  in  my  own  name  ;  and  when  a  friend 
of  mine  took  it  in  his,  it  was  with  much  difficulty  that,  after 
some  time,  the  landlord  was  prevailed  upon  to  transfer  the 
lease  to  me.  He  expressed  his  apprehension,  not  only  of 
the  house  that  I  occupied,  being  demolished,  but  also  a  capi- 
tal house  in  which  he  himself  resides,  at  the  distance  of  no 
less  than  twenty  miles  from  London,  whither  he  supposed  the 
rioters  would  go  next,  merely  for  suffering  me  to  live  in  a 
house  of  his. 

But  even  this  does  not  give  such  an  idea  of  the  danger 
that  not  only  myself,  but  every  person  and  every  thing  that 
had  the  slightest  connexion  with  me,  were  supposed  to  be  in, 
as  the  following.  The  managers  of  one  of  the  principal  "char- 
ities among  the  Dissenters  applied  to  me  to  preach  their  an- 
nual sermon,  and  I  had  consented.  But  the  treasurer,  a  man 
of  fortune,  who  knew  nothing  more  of  me  than  my  name, 
was  so  much  alarmed  at  it,  that  he  declared  he  could  not 
sleep.  I  therefore,  to  his  great  relief,  declined  preaching 
at  all. 

When  it  was  known  tliat  I  was  settled  where  I  now  am, 
several  of  my  friends,  who  lived  near  me,  were  seriously  ad- 
vised to  remove  their  papers,  and  other  most  valuable  effects, 
to  some  place  of  greater  safety  in  London.  On  the  14th  of 
July,  1792,  it  was  taken  for  granted  by  many  of  the  neigh- 
bours, that  my  house  was  to  come  down,  just  as  at  Birming- 
ham the  year  before.  When  the  Hackney  association  was 
formed,  several  servants  in  the  neighbourhood  actually  re- 
moved their  goods  ;  and  when  tliere  was  some  political  meet- 
ing at  the  house  of  Mr.  Breillat,  though  about  two  miles  from 
my  house,  a  woman  whose  daughter  was  servant  in  the  house 
contiguous  to  mine,  came  to  her  mistress  to  entreat  that  she 
might  be  out  of  tiie  way  ;  and  it  was  not  without  much  diffi- 
culty that  she  was  pacified,   and  prevailed  upon  to  let  her 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


xliii 


continue  in  the  house,  her  mistress  saying  that  she  was  as  safe 
as  herself. 

On  several  other  occasions  the  neighbourhood  has  been 
greatly  alarmed  on  account  of  my  being  so  near  them.  Nor 
was  this  without  apparent  reason.  I  could  name  a  person, 
and  to  appearance  a  reputable  tradesman,  who,  in  the  com- 
pany of  his  friends,  and  in  the  hearing  of  one  of  my  late  con- 
gregation at  Birmingham,  but  without  knowing  him  to  be 
such,  declared  that,  in  case  of  any  disturbance,  they  would 
immediately  come  to  Hackney,  evidently  for  the  purpose  of 
mischief  In  this  state  of  things,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at, 
that  of  many  servants  who  were  recommended  to  me,  and 
some  that  were  actually  hired,  very  few  could,  for  a  long  time, 
be  prevailed  upon  to  live  with  me. 

These  facts  not  only  show  how  general  was  the  idea  of 
my  particular  insecurity  in  this  country ;  but  what  is  of  much 
more  consequence,  and  highly  interesting  to  the  country  at 
large,  an  idea  of  the  general  disposition  to  rioting  and  vio- 
lence that  prevails  in  it,  and  that  the  Dissenters  are  the  ob- 
jects of  it.  Mr.  Pitt  very  justly  observed,  in  his  speech  on 
the  subject  of  the  riots  at  Birmingham,  that  it  was  "  the  effer- 
vescence of  the  public  mind."  Indeed  the  effervescible  matter 
has  existed  in  this  country  ever  since  the  civil  wars  in  the 
time  of  Charles  I.  and  it  was  particularly  apparent  in  the 
reign  of  Clueen  Anne.  But  the  power  of  government  under 
the  former  princes  of  the  House  of  Hanover,  prevented  its 
doing  any  mischief  The  late  events  show  that  this  power 
is  no  longer  exerted  as  it  used  to  be,  but  that  on  the  contra- 
ry, there  prevails  an  idea  well  or  ill-founded,  that  tumultuary 
proceedings  against  Dissenters,  will  not  receive  any  effectual 
discouragement.  After  what  has  taken  place  with  respect 
to  Birmingham,  all  idea  of  much  hazard  for  insulting  and 
abusing  the  Dissenters,  is  entirely  vanished  ;  whereas  the  dis- 
position to  injure  the  Catholics  was  effectually  checked  by 
the  proceedings  of  the  year  1780.  From  that  time  they  have 
been  safe,  and  I  rejoice  in  it.     But  from  the  year  1791,  the 


Xliv  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

Dissenters  have  been  more  exposed  to  insult  and  outrage  than 
ever. 

Having  fixed  myself  at  Clapton,  unhinged  as  I  had  been, 
and  having  lost  the  labor  of  several  years,  yet  flattering  my- 
self that  I  should  end  my  days  here,  I  took  a  long  lease  of  my 
house,  and  expended  a  considerable  sum  in  improving  it.  I 
also  determined,  with  the  assistance  of  my  friends,  to  resume 
my  philosophical  and  other  pursuits  ;  and  after  an  interrup- 
tion amounting  to  about  two  years,  it  was  with  a  pleasure 
that  I  cannot  describe,  that  I  entered  my  new  laboratory, 
and  began  the  most  common  preparatory  processes,  with  a 
view  to  some  original  inquiries.  With  what  success  I  have 
labored,  the  public  has  already  in  some  measure  seen,  and 
may  see  more  hereafter. 

But  though  I  did  not  choose  (notwithstanding  I  found  my- 
self exposed  to  continual  insult)  to  leave  my  native  country,  I 
found  it  necessary  to  provide  for  my  sons  elsewhere.  My 
eldest  son  was  settled  in  a  business,  which  promised  to  be 
very  advantageous,  at  Manchester ;  but  his  partner,  though  a 
man  of  liberality  himself,  informed  him,  on  perceiving  the 
general  prevalence  of  the  spirit  which  produced  the  riots  in 
Birmingham,  that,  owing  to  his  relationship  to  me,  he  was 
under  the  necessity  of  proposing  a  separation,  which  accord- 
ingly took  place. 

On  this  he  had  an  invitation  to  join  another  connexion,  in 
a  business  in  which  the  spirit  of  party  could  not  have  much 
affected  him ;  but  he  declined  it.  And  after  he  had  been 
present  at  the  assizes  at  Warwick,  he  conceived  such  an  idea 
of  this  country,  that  I  do  not  believe  any  proposal,  however 
advantageous,  would  have  induced  him  to  continue  in  it ;  so 
much  was  he  affected  on  perceiving  his  father  treated  as  I 
had  been. 

Determining  to  go  to  America,  where  he  had  no  prospect 
but  that  of  being  a  farmer,  he  wished  to  spend  a  short  time 
with  a  person  who  had  greatly  distinguished  himself  in  that 
way,  and  one  who  from  his  own  general  principles,  and  his 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  xlv 

friendship  for  myself,  would  have  given  him  the  best  advice 
and  assistance  in  his  power.  He,  however,  declined  it,  and 
acknowledged  some  time  after,  that  had  it  been  known,  as  it 
must  have  been,  to  his  landlord,  that  he  had  a  son  of  mine 
with  him,  he  feared  he  should  have  been  turned  out  of  his 
farm. 

My  second  son,  who  was  present  both  at  the  riot  and  the 
assizes,  felt  more  indignation  still,  and  willingly  listened  to  a 
proposal  to  settle  in  France ;  and  there  his  reception  was  but 
too  flattering.  However,  on  the  breaking  out  of  the  war 
with  this  country,  all  mercantile  prospects  being  suspended, 
he  wished  to  go  to  America.  There  his  eldest  and  youngest 
brother  have  joined  him,  and  they  are  now  looking  out  for  a 
settlement,  having  as  yet  no  fixed  views. 

The  necessity  I  was  under  of  sending  my  sons  out  of  this 
country,  was  my  principal  inducement  to  send  the  little  prop- 
erty that  I  had  out  of  it  too  ;  so  that  T  had  nothing  in  England 
besides  my  library,  apparatus,  and  household  goods.  By 
this,  I  felt  myself  greatly  relieved,  it  being  of  little  conse- 
quence where  a  man,  already  turned  of  sixty,  ends  his  days. 
Whatever  good  or  evil  I  have  been  capable  of,  is  now  chiefly 
done ;  and  I  trust  that  the  same  consciousness  of  integrity, 
which  has  supported  me  hitherto,  will  carry  me  through  any 
thing  that  may  yet  be  reserved  for  me.  Seeing,  however,  no 
great  prospect  of  doing  much  good,  or  having  much  enjoy- 
ment here,  I  am  now  preparing  to  follow  my  sons ;  hoping  to 
be  of  some  use  to  them  in  their  present  unsettled  state,  and 
that  Providence  may  yet,  advancing  in  years  as  I  am,  find 
me  some  sphere  of  usefulness  with  them. 

As  to  the  great  odium  that  I  have  incurred,  the  charge  of 
sedition,  or  my  being  an  enemy  to  the  constitution  or  peace 
of  my  country,  is  a  mere  pretence  for  it ;  though  it  has  been 
so  much  urged,  that  it  is  now  generally  believed,  and  all 
attempts  to  undeceive  the  public  with  respect  to  it,  avail 
nothing  at  all.  The  whole  course  of  my  studies,  from  early 
life,  shows  how  little  politics  of  any  kind  have  been  my  ob- 


Xlvi  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

ject.  Indeed,  to  liave  written  so  much  as  I  have  in  theology, 
and  to  have  done  so  much  in  experimental  philosophy,  and 
at  the  same  time  to  have  had  my'mind  occupied,  as  it  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been,  with  factious  jMilitics,  I  must  have  had 
faculties  more  than  human.  Let  any  person  only  cast  his 
eye  over  the  long  list  of  my  publications,  and  he  will  see  that 
they  relate  almost  wholly  to  theology,  philosophy,  or  general 
literature. 

I  did,  however,  when  I  was  a  younger  man,  and  before  it 
was  in  my  power  to  give  much  attention  to  philosophical  pur- 
suits, write  a  small  anonymous  political  pamphlet,  "  On  the 
State  of  Liberty  in  this  Country,"  about  the  time  of  Mr. 
Wilkes's  election  for  Middlesex,  which  gained  me  the  ac- 
quaintance, and  I  may  say  the  friendship,  of  Sir  George 
Saville,  and  which  I  had  the  happiness  to  enjoy  as  long  as  he 
lived. 

At  the  request  also  of  Dr.  Franklin  and  Dr.  Fothergill,  I 
wrote  an  Address  to  the  Dissenters  on  the  subject  of  the  aj>- 
proaching  rupture  with  America,  a  pamphlet  which  Sir 
George  Saville,  and  my  other  friends,  circulated  in  great 
numbers,  and  it  was  thought  with  some  effect. 

After  this,  I  entirely  ceased  to  write  any  thing  on  the  sub- 
ject of  politics,  except  as  far  as  the  business  of  the  "  Test 
Act,"  and  of  "Civil  Establishments  of  Religion,"  had  a  con- 
nexion with  politics.  And  though,  at  the  recommendation 
of  Dr.  Price,  I  was  presently  after  this  taken  into  the  family 
of  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  and  I  entered  into  almost  all 
his  views,  as  thinking  them  just  and  liberal,  I  never  wrote  a 
single  political  pamphlet,  or  even  a  paragraph  in  a  newspa- 
per, all  the  time  that  I  was  with  him,  which  was  seven  years. 

I  never  preached  a  political  sermon  in  my  life  ;  unless  such 
as  I  believe,  all  Dissenters  usually  preach  on  the  fifth  of  No- 
vember, in  ffivor  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  may  be  said  to 
be  political.  And  on  these  occasions,  I  am  confident,  that  I 
never  advanced  any  sentiment  but  such  as,  until  of  late  years, 
would  have  tended  to  recommend,  rather  than  render  me  ob- 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  xlvii 

noxious,  to  those  who  direct  the  administration  of  this  coun- 
try. And  the  doctrines  which  I  adopted  when  young,  and 
which  were  even  popular  then  (except  with  the  clergy,  who 
were  at  that  time  generally  disaffected  to  the  family  on  the 
throne),  I  cannot  abandon,  merely  because  the  times  are  so 
changed,  that  they  are  now  become  unpopular,  and  the  ex- 
pression and  communication  of  them  hazardous. 

Farther,  though  I  by  no  means  disapprove  of  societies  for 
political  information,  such  as  are  now  every  where  discoun- 
tenanced and  generally  suppressed,  I  never  was  a  member  of 
any  of  them;  nor,  indeed,  did  I  ever  attend  any  public  meet- 
ing, if  I  could  decently  avoid  it,  owing  to  habits  acquired  in 
studious  and  retired  life. 

From  a  mistake  of  my  talents  and  disposition,  I  was  invited 
by  many  of  the  departments  in  France,  to  represent  them  in 
the  present  National  Convention,  after  I  had  been  made  a 
citizen  of  France,  on  account  of  my  being  considered  as  one 
who  had  been  persecuted  for  my  attachment  to  the  cause  of 
liberty  here.  But  though  the  invitation  was  repeated  with 
the  most  flattering  importunity,  I  never  hesitated  about  de- 
clining it. 

I  can  farther  say  with  respect  to  politics,  concerning 
which,  I  believe,  every  Englishman  has  some  opinion  or 
other  (and  at  present,  owing  to  the  peculiar  nature  of  the 
present  war,  it  is  almost  the  only  topic  of  general  conversa- 
tion), that,  except  in  company,  I  hardly  ever  think  of  the  sub- 
ject, my  reading,  meditation,  and  writing,  being  almost 
wholly  engrossed  by  theology  and  philosophy ;  and  of  late,  as 
for  many  years  before  the  riots  in  Birmingham,  I  have  spent 
a  very  great  proportion  of  my  time,  as  my  friends  well  know, 
in  my  laboratory. 

If,  then,  my  real  crime  has  not  been  sedition,  or  treason, 
what  has  it  been  ?  For  every  effect  must  have  some  adequate 
cause,  and  therefore  the  odium  that  I  have  incurred,  must 
have  been  owing  to  something  in  my  declared  sentiments  or 
conduct,  that  has  exposed  me  to  it.     In  my  opinion,  it  can- 


xlviii 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


not  have  been  any  thing  but  my  open  hostility  to  the  doc- 
trines of  the  established  church,  and  more  especially  to  all 
civil  establishments  of  religion  whatever.  This  has  brought 
upon  me  the  implacable  resentment  of  the  great  body  of  the 
clergy ;  and  they  have  found  other  methods  of  opposing  me 
besides  argument,  and  that  use  of  the  press,  which  is  equally 
open  to  us  all.  They  have  also  found  an  able  ally  and  cham- 
pion in  Mr.  Burke,  who  (without  any  provocation  except  that 
of  answering  his  book  on  the  French  Revolution)  has  taken 
several  opportunities  of  inveighing  against  me,  in  a  place 
where  he  knows  I  cannot  reply  to  him,  and  from  which  he 
also  knows  that  his  accusation  will  reach  every  corner  of  the 
country,  and  consequently  thousands  of  persons  who  will 
never  read  any  writings  of  mine.  They  have  had  another, 
and  still  more  effectual  vehicle  of  their  abuse,  in  what  are 
called  the  treasury  newspajjers,  and  other  popular  publica- 
tions. 

By  these  and  other  means,  the  same  party  spirit  which 
was  the  cause  of  the  riots  in  Birmingham,  has  been  increas- 
ing ever  since,  especially  in  that  neighbourhood.  A  remark- 
able instance  of  this  may  be  seen  in  a  "  Letter"  addressed, 
but  not  sent  to  me,  from  Mr.  Foley,  rector  of  Stourbridge, 
who  acknowledges  the  satisfaction  that  he  and  his  brethren 
have  received  from  one  of  the  grossest  and  coarsest  pieces  of 
abuse  of  me  that  has  yet  appeared,  which,  as  a  curious  speci- 
men of  the  kind,  I  inserted  in  the  "  Appendix  of  my  Appeal," 
and  in  which  I  am  represented  as  no  better  than  Guy 
Fawkes,  or  the  devil  himself.  This  very  Christian  divine 
recommends  to  the  members  of  the  established  church,  to  de- 
cline all  commercial  dealings  with  the  Dissenters,  as  an  effec- 
tual method  of  exterminating  them.  This  method  has  been 
actually  adopted  in  many  parts  of  England.  Also  great  num- 
bers of  the  best  farmers  and  artisans  in  England,  have 
been  dismissed  because  they  would  not  go  to  the  established 
church.  "  Defoe's  Shortest  Way  with  the  Dissenters,"  would 
have  taught  the  friends  of  the  church  a  more  effectual  method 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  xHx 

still.  And  yet  this  Mr.  Foley,  whom  I  never  saw,  and  who 
could  not  have  had  any  particular  cause  of  enmity  to  me, 
had,  like  Mr.  Madan  of  Birmingham,  a  character  for  liberal- 
ity. What,  then,  have  we  to  expect  from  others,  when  we 
find  so  much  bigotry  and  rancor  in  such  men  as  these  ? 

Many  times,  by  the  encouragement  of  persons  from  whom 
better  things  might  have  been  expected,  I  have  been  burned 
in  efhgy  along  with  Mr.  Paine  ;  and  numberless  insulting  and 
threatening  letters  have  been  sent  to  me  from  all  parts  of  the 
kingdom.  It  is  not  possible  for  any  man  to  have  conducted 
himself  more  peaceably  than  I  have  done  all  the  time  that  I 
have  lived  at  Clapton,  yet  it  has  not  exempted  me  not  only 
from  the  worst  suspicions,  but  very  gross  insults.  A  very 
friendly  and  innocent  club,  which  I  found  in  the  place,  has 
been  considered  as  jacobin,  chiefly  on  my  account  ;  and  at 
one  time  there  was  cause  of  apprehension  that  I  should  have 
been  brought  into  danger  for  lending  one  of  Mr.  Paine's 
books.  But  with  some  difficulty  the  neighbourhood  was  sat- 
isfied that  I  was  innocent. 

As  nothing  had  been  paid  to  me  on  account  of  damages 
in  the  riot,  when  I  published  the  second  part  of  my  "  Appeal 
to  the  Public  "  on  the  subject,  it  may  be  proper  to  say,  that 
it  was  paid  some  time  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1793, 
with  interest  only  from  the  first  of  January  of  the  same  year, 
though  the  injury  was  received  in  July,  1791  ;  when  equity 
evidently  required,  that  it  ought  to  have  been  allowed  from  the 
time  of  the  riot,  especially  as,  in  all  the  cases,  the  allowance 
was  far  short  of  the  loss.  In  my  case  it  fell  short,  as  I  have 
shown,  not  less  than  two  thousand  pounds.  And  the  losses 
sustained  by  the  other  sufferers  far  exceeded  mine.  Public 
justice  also  required  that,  if  the  forms  of  law,  local  enmity  or 
any  other  cause,  had  prevented  our  receiving  full  indemnifi- 
cation, it  should  have  been  made  up  to  us  from  the  public 
treasury ,  the  great  end  of  all  civil  government  being  protec- 
tion from  violence,  or  an  indemnification  for  it.  Whatever 
d 


1  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

we  might  in  equity  claim,  the  country  owes  us,  and,  if  it  be 
just,  will  some  time  or  other  pay,  and  with  interest. 

I  would  farther  observe,  that  since,  in  a  variety  of  cases, 
money  is  allowed  where  the  injury  is  not  of  a  pecuniary 
nature,  merely  because  no  other  compensation  can  be  given, 
the  same  should  have  been  done  with  respect  to  me,  on  ac- 
count of  the  destruction  of  my  manuscripts,  the  interruption 
of  my  pursuits,  the  loss  of  a  pleasing  and  advantageous  situ- 
ation, &C.  &c.  and  had  the  injury  been  sustained  by  a  clergy- 
man, he  would,  I  doubt  not,  have  claimed,  and  been  allowed, 
very  large  damages  on  this  account.  So  far,  liowever,  was 
there  from  being  any  idea  of  the  kind  in  my  favor,  that  my 
counsel  advised  me  to  make  no  mention  of  my  manuscript 
"  Lectures  on  the  Constitution  of  England,"  a  work  about  as 
large  as  that  of  Blackstone  (as  may  be  seen  by  the  syllabus 
of  the  particular  lectures,  sixty-three  in  all,  published  in  the 
first  edition  of  my  "  Essays  on  a  Course  of  Liberal  Education, 
for  Civil  and  Active  Life"),  because  it  would  be  taken  for 
granted,  that  they  were  of  a  seditious  nature,  and  would 
therefore  have  been  of  disservice  to  me  with  the  jury.  Accord- 
ingly they  were,  in  the  account  of  my  losses,  included  in  the 
article  of  so  much  paper.  After  these  losses,  had  there  been 
nothing  but  the  justice  of  my  country  to  look  to,  I  must 
have  sunk  under  the  burden,  incapable  of  any  farther  exer- 
tions. It  was  the  seasonable  generosity  of  my  friends  that 
prevented  this,  and  put  it  in  my  power,  though  with  the  una- 
voidable loss  of  nearly  two  years,  to  resume  my  former  pursuits. 

A  farther  proof  of  the  excessive  bigotry  of  this  country  is, 
that,  though  the  clergy  of  Birmingham  resenting  what  I  ad- 
vanced in  the  first  part  of  my  "  Appeal,  "  replied  to  it,  and 
pledged  themselves  to  go  through  with  the  inquiry  along  with 
me,  till  the  whole  truth  should  be  investigated,  they  have 
made  no  reply  to  the  "  Second  Part  of  my  Appeal,"  in  which 
I  brought  specific  charges  against  themselves,  and  other  per- 
sons by  name,  proving  them  to  have  been  the  promoters  and 
abettors  of  the  riot ;  and  yet  they  have  as  much  respect  shown 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  U 

to  them  as  ever,  and  the  country  at  large  pays  no  attention 
to  it.  Had  the  clergy  been  the  injured  persons,  and  Dissen- 
ters the  rioters,  unable  to  answer  the  charges  brought  against 
them,  so  great  would  have  been  the  general  indignation  at 
their  conduct,  that  I  am  persuaded  it  would  not  have  been 
possible  for  them  to  continue  in  the  country. 

I  could,  if  I  were  so  disposed,  give  my  readers  many  more 
instances  of  the  bigotry  of  the  clergy  of  the  church  of  Eng- 
land with  respect  to  me,  which  could  not  fail  to  excite,  in 
generous  minds,  equal  indignation  and  contempt ;  but  I  for- 
bear. Had  I,  however,  forseen  what  I  am  now  witness  to,  I 
certainly  should  not  have  made  any  attempt  to  replace  my 
library  or  apparatus,  and  I  soon  repented  of  having  done  it. 
But  this  being  done,  I  was  willing  to  make  some  use  of  both 
before  another  interruption  of  my  pursuits.  I  began  to  phi- 
losophize and  make  experiments  rather  late  in  life,  being 
nearly  forty,  for  want  of  the  necessary  means  of  doing  any 
thing  in  this  way  ;  and  my  pursuits  have  been  much  inter- 
rupted by  removals  (never  indeed  chosen  by  myself,  but 
rendered  necessary  by  circumstances),  and  my  time  beinar 
now  short,  I  hoped  to  have  had  no  occasion  for  more  than  one, 
and  that  a  final  remove.  But  the  circumstances  above  men- 
tioned have  induced  me,  though  with  great  and  sincere 
regret,  to  undertake  another,  and  to  a  greater  distance  than 
any  that  I  have  hitherto  made. 

I  profess  not  to  be  unmoved  by  the  aspect  of  things  exhib- 
ited in  this  discourse.  But  notwithstanding  this,  I  should 
willingly  have  awaited  my  fate  in  my  native  country,  whatever 
it  had  been,  if  I  had  not  had  sons  in  America,  and  if  I  did  not 
think  that  a  field  of  public  usefulness,  which  is  evidently 
closing  upon  me  here,  might  open  to  more  advantage  there. 

I  own  also,  that  I  am  not  unaffected  by  such  unexampled 
punishments  as  those  of  Mr.  Muir,  and  my  friend,  Mr.  Pal- 
mer, for  offences,  which,  if,  in  the  eye  of  reason,  they  be  any 
at  all,  are  slight,  and  very  insufficiently  proved  ;  a  measure  so 
subversive  of  that  freedom  of  speaking  and  acting,  which  has 


lii  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

hitherto  been  the  great  pride  of  Britons.  But  the  sentence  of 
Mr.  Winterbotham,  for  delivering  from  the  pulpit  what  I  am 
pursuaded  he  never  did  deliver,  and  which,  similar  evidence 
might  have  drawn  upon  myself,  or  any  other  Dissenting 
minister  who  was  an  object  of  general  dislike,  has  something 
in  it  still  more  alarming.  But  I  trust  that  conscious  inno- 
cence would  support  me  as  it  does  him,  under  whatever  pre- 
judiced and  violent  men  might  do  to  me,  as  well  as  say  of  me. 
But  I  see  no  occasion  to  expose  myself  to  danger,  without 
any  prospect  of  doing  good,  or  to  continue  any  longer  in  a 
country  in  which  I  am  so  unjustly  become  the  object  of  gen- 
eral dislike,  and  not  retire  to  another,  where  I  have  reason  to 
think  I  shall  be  better  received.  And  I  trust  that  the  same 
good  Providence  which  has  attended  me  hitherto,  and  made 
me  happy  in  my  present  situation  and  all  my  former  ones,  will 
attend  and  bless  me  in  what  may  still  be  before  me.  In 
all  events,  the  will  of  God  be  done. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  repeating  again,  that  I  leave  my 
native  country  with  real  regret,  never  expecting  to  find  any 
where  else  society  so  suited  to  my  disposition  and  habits, 
such  friends  as  I  have  here  (whose  attachment  has  been  more 
than  a  balance  to  all  the  abuse  I  have  met  with  from  others), 
aud  especially  to  replace  one  particular  Christian  friend,  in 
whose  absence  I  shall,  for  some  time  at  least,  find  all  the 
world  a  blank.  Still  less  can  I  expect  to  resume  my  favor- 
ite pursuits  with  any  thing  like  the  advantages  I  enjoy  here. 
In  leaving  this  country,  I  also  abandon  a  source  of  mainte- 
nance, which  I  can  but  ill  bear  to  lose.  I  can,  however,  truly 
say  that  I  leave  it  without  any  resentment  or  ill  will.  On 
the  contrary,  I  sincerely  wish  my  countrymen  all  happiness  ; 
and  when  the  time  for  reflection  (which  my  absence  may 
accelerate)  shall  come,  they  will,  I  am  confident,  do  me  more 
justice.  They  will  be  convinced  that  every  suspicion  they 
have  been  led  to  entertain  to  my  disadvantage,  has  been  ill 
founded,  and  that  I  have  oven  some  claim  to  their  gratitude 
and  esteem.     In  this  case,  I  shall  look  with  satisfaction  to  the 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  Hii 

time  when,  if  my  life  be  prolonged,  I  may  visit  my  friends  in 
this  country  ;  and  perhaps  I  may,  notwithstanding  my  re- 
moval for  the  present,  find  a  grave  (as  I  believe  is  naturally 
the  wish  of  every  man)  in  the  land  that  gave  me  birth." 

As  the  time  drew  near  when  he  was  to  sail,  testimonials  of 
respect  and  regret  poured  in  upon  him  from  various  quarters. 
Of  these  one  of  the  most  gratifying  was  from  Cambridge. 
"  A  few  gentlemen  of  the  University,  of  all  ranks,"  (to  use 
the  words  of  one  of  them),  "justly  indignant  that  this  great 
philosopher  and  most  amiable  man  should  be  banished  his 
country  by  a  church-and-king  mob,  connived  at,  if  not  en- 
couraged by,  the  government  of  the  day,"  presented  him  on 
his  departure  a  handsome  silver  inkstand,  with  this  inscrip- 
tion :  "  To  Joseph  Priestley,  LL.  D.  &lc.  on  his  depar- 
ture into  exile,  from  a  few  members  of  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  who  regret  that  this  expression  of  their  esteem 
should  be  occasioned  by  the  ingratitude  of  their  country." 

On  the  30th  of  March,  he  delivered  his  farewell  sermon  at 
Hackney,  from  Acts  xx.  32.  His  chapel  was  crowded,  as  it 
had  been  for  many  successive  Sabbaths,  by  those  who  were 
anxious  to  receive  the  last  instructions  of  so  eminent  a 
teacher.  The  next  Sabbath,  April  6,  he  passed  in  the  family 
of  his  friends  in  Essex  street,  and  worshipped  in  Essex  street 
chapel.  It  was  his  last  day  in  England.  He  sailed  the  7th 
of  April,  and  arrived  at  New  York,  after  a  long  and  unpleas- 
ant voyage,  the  4th  of  June.  While  at  sea  he  wrote  his 
"  Observations  on  the  prevalence  of  Infidelity,"  and  occu- 
pied himself  in  the  study  of  the  New  Testament ;  "  which," 
he  says  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Lindsey,  "  I  think  I  read  with  more 
satisfaction  than  ever.  Unbelievers,  I  am  confident,  do  not 
read  it,  except  with  a  predisposition  to  cavil."  In  another 
letter,  immediately  on  his  arrival,  he  writes  thus. 

"  Our  society  in  the  cabin  was  agreeable  enough,  though 
the  majority  were  aristocratically  inclined  ;  but  all  in  the 
steerage  were  zealous  republicans,  and  persons  of  good  char- 
acter, and  several  of  good  property.     In  the  steerage,   also, 


liv 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


there  was  more  religion  than  in  the  cabin,  but  they  were  uni- 
versally Calvinists,  though  the  majority  very  moderate,  as 
you  will  suppose  from  their  applying  to  me  to  perform  divine 
service  to  them  ;  which  I  did  with  much  satisfaction,  when 
the  weather  and  other  circumstances  would  permit,  several  in 
the  cabin  joining  us,  though  some  of  them  were  unbelievers, 
but  for  want  of  information.  This  is  the  case  with  Mr.  Lyon, 
a  most  excellent  man,  who  is  now  reading  my  "  Sermons  on 
the  Evidences  of  Revelation,"  and,  I  hope,  to  good  purpose. 
He,  like  thousands  of  others,  told  me  that  he  was  so  much  dis- 
gusted with  the  doctrinesof  the  Church  of  England,  especially 
the  Trinity,  that  he  considered  the  whole  business  as  an 
imposition,  without  farther  inquiry. 

The  confinement  in  the  ship  would  not  have  been  dis- 
agreeable if  I  could  have  written  with  convenince,  but  I 
could  do  little  more  than  read.  I  read  the  whole  of  the 
Greek  Testament,  and  the  Hebrew  Bible  as  far  as  the  first 
Book  of  Samuel  ;  and,  I  think,  with  more  satisfaction  than 
ever.  I  also  read  through  Hartley's  second  volume,  and,  for 
amusement,  I  had  several  books  of  voyages,  and  Ovid's  Meta- 
morphoses, which  I  read  through.  I  always  admired  his 
Latin  versification.  If  I  had  a  Virgil,  I  should  have  read 
him  through,  too.  I  read  a  great  deal  of  Buchanan's  poems, 
and  some  of  Petrarch  dc  remediis,  and  Erasmus's  Dialogues ; 
also  Peter  Pindar's  poems,  which  Mr.  Lyon  had  with  him, 
and  which  pleased  me  much  more  than  I  expected.  He 
is  Paine  in  verse.  Though  it  was  particularly  inconvenient 
to  write  long  hand,  I  composed  about  as  much  as  will  make 
two  sermons  on  the  causes  of  infidelity,  which  will  make  a 
proper  addition  to  the  volume  of  my  discourses.  If  I  do  not 
print  them  here,  I  will  send  you  a  copy.  Now  that  I  have 
access  to  the  first  volume  of  Hartley,  in  the  fine  edition  Mrs. 
Lindsey  gave  me,  I  think  I  can  improve  what  I  wrote.  The 
second  volume  I  had  in  the  ship,  was  an  odd  volume  of  the 
set  that  was  distroyed  in  the  riot." 

"  I  never  saw  any  place  that  I  liked  so  well  as  New  York. 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.   PRIESTLEY.  Iv 

It  far  exceeds  my  expectations,  and  my  reception  is  too  flat- 
tering, no  form  of  respect  being  omitted.  I  have  received 
two  formal  addresses,  to  which  I  have  given  answers.  More, 
I  hear,  are  coming ;  and  almost  every  person  of  the  least  con- 
sequence in  the  place,  has  been,  or  is  coming,  to  call  upon 
me.  This  is  rather  troublesome,  but  it  shows  the  difference 
of  the  two  countries.  Every  thing  that  bore  the  name  of 
king  or  queen  is  changed,  as  streets,  &c.,  &c.,  and  yet  this 
is  the  most  aristocratical  place  on  the  continent.  I  am  lodged 
in  the  house  which  was  the  head-quarters  of  generals  Howe 
and  Clinton,  in  view  of  the  bay,  Vi'hich  is  the  finest  prospect 
(hat  I  remember  ever  to  have  seen. 

This  must  be  a  glorious  country,  and  I  doubt  not  of  find- 
ing a  peaceable  and  useful  establishment  in  it.  When  that 
is  accomplished,  my  only  wish  will  be  to  have  you,  and  a  few 
other  Christian  friends,  to  come  and  end  their  days  with  us. 
But  we  must  not  promise  ourselves  too  much  in  this  world. 

Say  for  me  every  thing  that  a  greatful  heart  can  dictate, 
both  for  myself,  my  wife,  and  my  son,  to  Mrs.  Rayner. 
Yours  and  Mrs.  Lindsey's  most  affectionately ." 

Again  he  writes,  June  15. 

"  We  have  now  been  here  near  a  fortnight,  and  I  begin  to 
expect  to  hear  from  you,  which  is  the  greatest  satisfaction  that 
I  expect  in  this  country ;  but  I  sometimes  think  that  every 
thing  here  is  so  promising  and  every  thing  with  you  so  threat- 
ening, that  perhaps  even  you  and  Mrs.  Lindsey  may  be  in- 
duced to  end  your  days  with  us.  To  accomplish  this,  I 
should  at  any  time  come  over  and  fetch  you.  Indeed,  the 
difference  between  the  aspect  of  things  here  and  with  you  is 
not  to  be  expressed.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  in  another  world.  I 
never  before  could  conceive  how  satisfactory  it  is  to  have  the 
feeling  that  I  now  have,  fiom  a  sense  of  perfect  security  and 
liberty,  all  men  having  equal  rights  and  privileges,  and  speak- 
ing and  acting  as  if  they  were  sensible  of  it.  Here  are  no 
beggars  to  be  seen,  and  families  are  easily  maintained  by  any 
kind  of  labor  ;  and  whether  it  be  the  effect  of  general  liberty, 


Ivi 


MEMOIR  OP  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


or  some  other  cause,  I  find  many  more  clever  men,  men  ca- 
pable of  conversing  with  propriety  and  fluency  on  all  subjects 
relating  to  government,  than  I  have  met  with  any  where  in 
England.  T  have  seen  many  members  of  Congress  on  their 
return  from  it,  and  without  exception,  they  seem  to  be  men  of 
first  rate  ability,  though  some  of  them  plain  in  their  manners. 

With  respect  to  myself,  the  difference  is  great  indeed.  In 
England,  I  was  an  object  of  the  greatest  aversion  to  every 
person  connected  with  government ;  whereas  here,  they  are 
those  who  show  me  the  most  respect.  With  you,  the  Episco- 
pal church  is  above  every  thing.  In  this  city,  it  makes  a  de- 
cent figure,  but  the  Presbyterians  are  much  above  them,  and 
the  governor  (Clinton),  who  is  particularly  attentive  to  me, 
goes  to  the  meeting-house." 

After  a  short  visit  at  New  York  and  Philadelphia,  Dr. 
Priestley  took  up  his  permanent  residence  at  Northumber- 
land. His  situation  and  mode  of  life  there  may  be  seen  in 
the  letters  which  he  wrote  from  that  place  in  October  and 
December. 

"  The  greatest  inconvenience  attending  this  situation  is  a 
want  of  a  ready  communication  with  Philadelphia.  There 
are  no  stage-wagons  ;  and  the  only  method  of  sending  heavy 
goods  is  by  land  in  the  wagons  that  carry  corn  to  Middle- 
town,  on  the  Susqueliannah,  and  thence  by  water  hither ; 
and  the  water  is  so  low  at  this  time  of  the  year,  that  it  is  not 
navigable.  It  is  expected  to  rise  a  little  towards  the  end  of 
this  month  ;  but  the  best  time  for  it  is  in  the  spring,  and  till 
midsummer ;  but  then  there  are  few  wagons  going  to  Mid- 
dletown. 

Inconvenient  as  this  circumstance  and  some  others  make  a 
residence  in  this  place,  I  prefer  it  on  the  whole.  Philadel- 
phia is  unpleasant,  unhealthy,  and  intolerably  expensive  ;  and 
there  I  should  have  little  command  of  my  time.  Here  I  can 
command  the  whole ;  and  when  I  get  my  books  and  instru- 
ments, I  hope  to  do  as  much  as  ever  I  have  done.  In  the 
mean  time,  I  am  not  idle.     I  have  some  books,   and  every 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  Ivii 

day  do  something  towards  the  continuation  of  my  Church 
History.  I  shall  finish  the  next  period  which  will  carry  the 
History  to  the  rise  of  Mahometanism,  in  about  a  month,  task- 
ing myself  every  day.  My  materials  will  not  carry  me  much 
farther. 

I  never  read  so  much  Hebrew  as  I  have  since  I  left  Eng- 
land. I  have  nearly  finished  all  the  Old  Testament,  and  I 
never  read  it  with  so  much  satisfaction,  especially  the  proph- 
ecies, which  I  am  now  attending  to.  I  think  I  shall  read 
more  or  less  of  the  Hebrew  Bible  as  long  as  I  live  ;  and  shall, 
when  I  get  my  Polyglots,  and  other  helps,  take  much  pleasure 
in  translating  more  than  I  undertook  before.  Having  leisure 
for  miscellaneous  reading,  I  have  read  almost  the  whole  of 
Tacitus,  which  I  had  not  done  before,  and  I  admire  him 
more  than  I  expected.  I  shall  read  many  of  the  best  ancient 
writers,  especially  the  historians,  when  I  get  my  library. 

I  have  nearly  printed  the  Continuation  of  my  Letters  to  the 
Philosophers  and  Politicians  of  France,  and  to  a  Philosophical 
Unbeliever  ;  the  latter  in  answer  to  Mr.  Paine's  Age  of  Rea- 
son;  which  is  much  read,  and  has  made  great  impression 
here  ;  nor  will  you  wonder  at  it,  when  you  consider  what 
kind  of  Christianity  is  preached  here.  I  am  told  that  the 
Quakers  read  it  with  great  avidity,  and  they  have  no  knowl- 
edge at  all  of  the  proper  evidence  of  Christianity,  or  the  doc- 
trines of  it.  Many  of  them,  therefore,  in  this  country,  either 
actually  are,  or  are  easily  made  unbelievers.  There  are 
great  expectations,  I  am  told,  from  my  answer  to  Paine,  and 
I  hope  it  will  do  good. 

I  told  you  that  when  I  came  hither  I  was  asked  to  preach 
at  the  Presbyterian  meeting-house  ;  but  though  I  am  sure  I 
said  nothing  which  could  give  any  Christian  just  offence,  they 
never  asked  me  again,  and  I  have  contented  myself  with  read- 
ing a  sermon  in  my  own  house.  Yesterday,  however,  the 
officer  of  a  company  of  soldiers  who  are  passing  this  way  re- 
quested me  to  preach  to  them,  and  they  got  the  use  of  the 
meeting-house,  and  some  of  the  people  of  the  place  attended  ; 


Iviii  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

but  little  can  be  done  before  I  get  a  place  to  myself,  which, 
if  a  few  persons  from  England  join  us,  will  soon  be  accom- 
plished, especially  if  the  college  be  established  here,  and  of 
this  no  doubt  is  now  entertained  ;  and  the  person  whose 
property  the  greatest  part  of  the  town  is,  has  consented  to 
give  the  ground  to  build  it  on.  We  therefore  hope  to  have 
the  buildings  raised  the  next  year,  and  begin  some  business, 
when  I  hope  to  be  of  some  use.  In  the  spring,  however,  I 
shall  go  to  Philadelphia,  and  preach  a  sermon,  which  I  have 
already  composed  and  transcribed,  from  ^f#.s  xvii.  18-20; 
but  I  want  your  cool  judgment  in  this  and  all  my  other  com- 
positions.    I  feel  myself  as  a  ship  without  a  rudder." 

Again.  "  Though  I  am  far  from  being  so  happy  as  I  was 
at  Hackney,  near  you  and  Mr.  Belsham,  I  have  a  tolerable 
prospect  of  being  more  comfortable  when  I  have  got  my  house 
built ;  but  I  foresee  much  trouble,  as  well  as  expense,  attend- 
ing it.  My  instruments  must  remain  unpacked,  at  least  in  a 
great  measure,  till  then,  and  my  books  are  chiefly  in  a  barn 
and  a  garret,  so  that  it  is  not  very  ea.sy  to  come  at  them  all. 
In  this  respect,  however,  I  do  pretty  well,  and  by  doing  my 
different  tasks  every  day,  have  the  satisfaction  of  thinking  I 
do  .some  business,  without  which  I  should  have  little  enjoy- 
ment of  life. 

I  shall  get  well  acquainted  with  the  Hebrew  Bible,  a  large 
portion  of  which  I  read  the  first  thing  every  morning,  and  I 
give  some  hours  every  day  to  my  Church  History.  The  great 
number  of  unbelievers  here  will  keep  up  my  attention  to  the 
evidences  of  revelation,  and  I  think  I  may  perhaps  add  another 
part  to  my  Letters  to  a  Philosophical  Unbeliever,  on  the  sub- 
ject of  prophecy.  I  like  Bicheno's  idea  of  the  seven  thunders 
meaning  the  seven  wars  wliicli  have  taken  place  since  the 
conquests  of  the  Turks,  but  there  is  little  else  that  I  admire  in 
him.  T  have  had  some  of  the  same  thoughts  that  Mr.  Gam- 
ham  has  entertained  ;  but  I  cannot  say  that  they  give  me  the 
same  satisfaction  that  they  do  him,  and  I  think  he  hazards  a 
great  deal  in  foretelling  the  duration  and  the  issue  of  the  pres- 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


lix 


ent  war  against  the  French.  I  am  endeavouring  to  settle  my 
opinion  of  the  most  probable  interpretations  of  the  principal 
prophecies  in  Daniel  and  the  Revelation,  and  when  I  have 
done  it,  shall  write  to  you  more  fully  on  the  subject.  I  have 
no  satisfaction  like  that  which  attends  the  study  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. 

Since  I  wrote  last,  I  have  a  prospect  of  being  employed  as 
a  preacher  here.  I  have  a  service  every  Lord's  day  at  my 
son's  house ;  and  several  persons,  the  most  respectable  in  the 
place,  have  desired  to  attend,  and  even,  I  hear,  talk  of  build- 
ing a  place  of  worship  for  me.  To  this  I  shall  contribute 
pretty  largely  myself,  and  shall  feel  most  happy  in  being  so 
employed,  and  in  instructing  such  young  persons  as  will 
attend  me." 

In  February,  1796,  he  visited  Philadelphia,  and  delivered  a 
course  of  Lectures  on  the  Evidences  of  Revealed  Religion. 
The  congregation  that  attended,  says  a  lady  who  was  present, 
were  so  numerous  that  the  house  could  not  contain  them,  so 
that  as  many  were  obliged  to  stand  as  sit,  and  even  the  door- 
ways were  crowded  with  people.  During  this  visit  he  at- 
tended the  debates  of  Congress,  on  the  ratification  of  Jay's 
treaty.  The  passage  in  which  he  speaks  of  them  in  writing 
to  Mr.  Lindsey  is  not  without  interest. 

"  After  a  long  discussion,  the  House  of  Representatives 
have  voted,  by  a  majority  of  three,  for  carrying  the  treaty 
with  England  into  execution.  Having  much  leisure,  I  have 
attended  to  hear  much  of  the  debate,  and  have  heard  as  good 
speaking  as  in  your  House  of  Commons,  and  much  more  de- 
corum. A  Mr.  Ames  speaks  as  well  as  Mr.  Burke  ;  but,  in 
general,  the  speakers  are  more  argumentative,  and  less  rhe- 
torical. And  whereas  there  are  not  with  you  more  than  ten 
or  a  dozen  tolerable  speakers,  here  every  member  is  capable 
of  speaking,  which  makes  interesting  debates  tedious.  A 
good  account  of  the  speeches  is  taken  by  short-hand  writers, 
who  have  a  desk  for  the  purpose,  and,  I  believe,  many  of  the 
speakers  correct  them  afterwards.     As  the  speeches  on  this 


Ix 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


occasion  are  printed,  I  will  send  them  to  you.  The  mem- 
bers for  the  northern  states  are  in  general  in  favor  of  the 
treaty,  and  those  from  the  southern,  against  it.  I  am  well 
acquainted  with  both,  and  they  do  not  avoid  one  another,  as 
tlie  heads  of  parties  do  in  England ;  and  when  once  any 
thing  is  decided  by  fair  voting,  all  contention  ceases." 

In  the  course  of  the  next  year  Dr.  Priestley's  situation  was 
rendered  yet  more  solitary  by  the  death  of  his  youngest  son 
and  of  his  wife.  These  were  severe  trials,  and  he  often 
pathetically  alludes  to  them  in  his  letters,  showing  how  deeply 
he  was  afflicted  and  how  a  Christian  faith  and  hope  sustained 
him.  "  The  time  is  fast  approaching  with  respect  to  me," 
he  says,  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Barbauld,  "  when  our  intercourse 
from  which  I  have  derived  so  much  satisfaction,  will  be  re- 
newed with  advantage,  and  to  this  future  scene  late  events 
have  drawn  my  attention  in  a  more  particular  manner  than 
ever.  How  much  to  be  pitied  are  they  who  are  not  Chris- 
tians !  What  consolation  can  they  have  in  their  sorrows  ? 
Mine  have  sometimes  such  a  mixture  of  joy,  as  hardly  to  de- 
serve the  name."  "  The  death  of  my  wife,"  he  says  some 
months  afterward,  "  has  made  a  great  change  in  my  feel- 
ings ;  though  I  never  felt  so  sensibly  the  happy  effects  of 
religion." 

In  1797  he  again  passed  some  time  in  Philadelphia, 
preaching  on  the  Evidences  of  Christianity,  and  publishing 
remarks  on  the  infidel  writings  of  Volney,  who  was  then  in 
that  city.  The  subject  of  infidelity  was  that  which  now 
supremely  interested  him.  He  took  little  notice  of  those  who 
were  disposed  to  treat  him  as  a  heretic.  "  Except  avowing 
my  sentiments,  which  I  thought  it  necessary  to  do,  in  a  sin- 
gle discourse  last  year,  I  pay  no  attention  whatever  to  the 
Orthodox,  and  confine  myself  to  the  unbelievers,  as  by  much 
the  more  formidable  enemy  of  the  two."  "While  I  am 
preaching  and  writing  against  the  common  enemy,  they  are 
preaching  and  writing  against  me."  That  any  unbeliever  can 
be  pious  and  habitually  devout  (without  which  every  charac- 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  Ixi 

ter  must  be  very  imperfect)  is  what  I  have  not  yet  seen  any 
appearance  of." 

"  How  insignificant,"  he  exclaims,  "  are  all  subjects,  com- 
pared to  those  which  relate  to  religion  !  And  yet  I  am  per- 
suaded I  have  more  pleasure  in  my  philosophical  pursuits 
than  any  of  my  unchristian  brethren.  My  views  of  these 
subjects  give  a  dignity  and  importance  to  them,  which,  in  the 
eye  of  the  unbeliever,  it  is  impossible  they  should  have."  In 
a  similar  strain  he  writes,  on  hearing  of  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Lindsey.  "  The  loss  of  near  friends  and  the  society  to  which 
we  have  been  long  accustomed,  weans  us  from  the  world.  I 
have  hardly  a  wish  to  stay  behind,  already.  When  a  few  more 
of  my  friends  are  gone,  I  shall  wish  to  go  too  ;  and  I  think  of 
our  meeting  in  another  state  much  more  than  ever.  What 
an  unspeakable  blessing  is  the  knowledge  of  Christianity. 
What  a  pearl  of  great  price  do  unbelievers  reject !  I  have 
now  very  little  real  satisfaction  in  any  studies  that  are  foreign 
to  this.  I  think  I  should  even  drop  my  philosophical  pur- 
suits, but  that  I  consider  them  as  that  study  of  the  works  of 
the  great  Creator,  which  I  shall  resume  with  more  advantao-e 
hereafter." 

In  January,  1800,  he  wrote  thus  to  Mr.  Lindsey. 

"  Your  account  of  my  daughter's  illness  affects  me  much. 
So  few  recover  from  consumptions,  that  I  have  no  expecta- 
tion of  it  in  her  case.  She  will,  however,  be  freed  from  much 
trouble  in  this  life,  and  be  well  prepared  for  another  ;  and 
such  is  my  situation  here,  and  so  near  am  I  to  the  same 
catastrophe,  that  such  an  event  affects  me  much  less  than  it 
would  otherwise  do.  The  removal  of  a  very  few  more  would 
make  me  wish  to  follow  them.  I  have  no  desire  to  live  on 
account  of  any  enjoyment  that  I  can  reasonably  expect  in 
this  life  ;  but  while  I  am  capable  of  doino-  any  o-ood,  I 
wish  to  have  the  opportunity. 

From  how  much  trouble  has  my  wife  been  relieved  !  She 
had  a  great  mind  ;  but  the  events  that  have  taken  place  since 
her  death  would  have  affected  her  deeply.     My  trials,  now 


Ixii  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

towards  the  close  of  life,  are  as  great  as  I  can  bear ;  though 
I  doubt  not  that  a  wise  and  good  Providence  overrules  all 
events,  and  I  have  daily  a  more  habitual  respect  to  it.  Noth- 
ing else  could  support  me.  I  have  often  said,  and  I  see  more 
reason  for  it  continually,  and  in  my  own  case,  that  many 
events  are  more  to  be  lamented  than  the  death  of  children 
and  friends.  In  that  case  the  mind  is  relieved  from  farther 
anxiety  ;  and  though  we  have  reason  to  be  satisfied  when  we 
have  done  what  we  think  to  be  our  duty,  it  is  not  such  a  sat- 
isfaction as  leaves  the  mind  fully  at  ease. 

We  are  frail,  imperfect  beings,  and  our  faith  is  at  best  but 
weak,  and  requires  to  be  strengthened  by  reading  and  reflec- 
tion. I  never  omit  reading,  and  I  do  it  with  more  satisfac- 
tion than  ever,  a  considerable  portion  of  Scripture  every  day, 
and  by  this  means  my  mind  is  much  relieved  ;  and  having 
good  health,  my  spirits  are  naturally  good.  Besides,  I  often 
think  how  small  a  proportion  my  afflictions  bear  to  those  of 
many  others,  and  to  the  great  mass  of  distress  that  I  cannot 
help  thinking  is  coming  on  a  great  part  of  the  world,  in  which 
many  of  the  worthiest  persons  must  be  involved. 

Notwithstanding  all  my  troubles,  I  have  much  to  be  thank- 
ful for,  especially  the  means  of  study,  in  a  valuable  library 
and  apparatus,  of  both  which  I  endeavour  to  make  the  best 
use  that  I  can.  I  sometimes  flatter  myself  that  I  could  be  of 
some  use  to  the  cause  of  Christianity  in  France  ;  and  with 
any  reasonable  prospect  of  that,  I  would  cheerfully  abandon 
every  thing  here,  and  devote  myself  wholly  to  it,  whatever  I 
miorht  suffer  in  consequence  of  it ;  but  I  must  wait  the  call 
of  God,  in  the  course  of  his  providence.  Here  I  hope  I 
have  done  some  good,  and  have  laid  the  foundation  for  more  ; 
but  it  is  not  what  we  expected.  We  must  not,  however, 
despair  of  the  cause.  It  is  advancing,  like  the  planets,  when 
they  seem  to  be  stationary,  or  even  retrograde." 

The  calm  and  happy  state  of  mind  in  which  this  good  man 
approached  old  age,  is  rendered  evident  from  the  passages 
now  cited.     He  was  in  trouble,  and  in  comparative  solitude; 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLKY.  Ixiii 

but  his  faith  cheered  him  ;  his  interest  in  high  thoughts  made 
him  happy.  His  friends  sometimes  urged  his  return  to 
Europe,  but  he  preferred  to  retain  his  retirement  and  repose. 
"Another  removal,"  he  said,  "would  be  the  termination  of 
all  my  labors  and  pursuits  in  this  world  ;  and  these  I  will  not 
give  up,  while  I  am  capable  of  doing  any  thing.  And  I 
thank  God,  I  never  had  better  health ;  though  I  am  not 
strong,  or  capable  of  bearing  much  bodily  exercise,  and  can- 
not keep  to  one  thing  so  long  as  I  used  to  do.  By  great 
regularity  in  the  distribution  of  my  time,  and  having  few 
avocations,  I  do  almost  as  much  business  of  one  kind  or 
another  as  I  ever  did,  and  I  read  very  little  for  amusement." 

His  state  of  feeling  is  further  depicted  in  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Lindsey,  May  8,  1802,  after  hearing  of  the  illness  of  her 
husband. 

"  I  cannot  express  how  much  I  was  affected  on  reading 
your  letter,  though  I  was  apprized  of  the  situation  of  my 
best  friend  by  the  letters  of  Mr.  Belsham,  so  that  I  had 
no  reason  to  expect  any  different  account.  But  the  few 
lines  he  added,  with  his  own  hand,  quite  overcame  me  ;  and 
if  I  read  them,  as  I  shall  do,  a  hundred  times,  I  shall  have 
the  same  emotions.  Such  friendship  as  his  and  yours  has 
been  to  me,  can  never  be  exceeded  on  this  side  the  orave, 
and,  independent  of  the  real  emolument,  has  been  a  source  of 
such  satisfaction  to  me  as  I  have  not  derived  from  any  other 
quarter. 

And  yet  what  I  feel  is  not  properly  grief,  for,  considering 
how  near  we  both  must  be  to  the  close  of  life,  in  which  we 
could  not  promise  ourselves  much  more  enjoyment,  or  be  of 
much  more  use,  what  remains  cannot,  according  to  the  com- 
mon course  of  nature,  be  of  much  value  ;  and  therefore  the 
privation  of  it  is  no  great  loss  ;  and  considering  how  soon  we 
may  expect,  and  I  hope  without  much  presumption,  to  meet 
again  in  more  favorable  circumstances,  the  causes  of  joy  may 
almost  be  allowed  to  balance  those  of  grief 

If  you  saw  me  now,  you  would  not  flatter  me  with  the 


Ixiv  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

prospect  of  long  surviving  my  excellent  friend.  Judging  from 
my  illnesses  the  last  year,  and  my  present  feelings,  I  am  far 
from  expecting  it  myself,  and,  indeed,  as  it  will  be  the  will  of 
God,  whatever  the  event  be,  and,  therefore,  no  doubt  for  the 
best,  I  cannot  say  that  I  greatly  wish  it.  My  labors,  of  what- 
ever kind,  and  whatever  be  their  value,  must  be  nearly  over." 
And  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Lindsey  a  few  weeks  later. 

"  Dear  Friend,  jYorthvmberland,  Ju7ie  26,  1802. 

Whether  it  be  you  or  Mrs.  Lindsey  that  is  my  correspon- 
dent, I  consider  it  as  the  same  thing.  You  are  alike  my 
friends,  and  my  best  friends  ;  and,  whoever  survives,  this  cor- 
respondence will  not,  I  hope,  cease,  on  this  side  the  grave, 
while  it  is  possible  to  continue  it.  This  great  change,  to 
which  we  are  making  near  approaches,  I  regard,  I  hope  I 
may  say,  with  more  curiosity  than  anxiety.  It  is  the  wise 
order  of  Providence  that  death  should  intervene  between  the 
two  different  modes  of  existence  ;  and  what  engages  my 
thoughts  is,  the  change  itself,  more  than  the  mere  manner  of 
making  it.  I  look  at  your  portrait,  and  that  of  Dr.  Price, 
and  Mr.  Lee,  which  are  always  before  me,  and  think  of  my 
deceased  friends,  whose  portraits  I  have  not,  with  peculiar 
satisfaction,  under  the  idea  that  I  shall,  at  no  great  distance, 
see  them  again,  and  I  hope  with  pleasure.  But,  how  we 
shall  meet  again  and  how  we  shall  be  employed,  we  have  lit- 
tle or  no  ground  even  for  conjecture.  It  should  satisfy  us, 
however,  that  we  shall  be  at  the  disposal,  and  under  the  gov- 
ernment, of  the  same  wise  and  good  Being  who  has  superin- 
tended us  here,  and  who  best  knows  what  place  and  employ- 
ment will  best  suit  all  of  us. 

The  more  I  think  of  the  wonderful  system  of  which  we  are 
a  part,  the  less  I  think  of  any  difficulties  about  the  reality  or 
the  circumstance  of  a  future  state.  The  resurrection  is, 
really,  nothing,  compared  to  the  wonders  of  every  day  in  the 
regular  course  of  nature  ;  and  the  only  reason  why  we  do  not 
wonder  is,  because  the  appearances  are  common.  Whether 
it  be,  because  I  converse  less  with  men,  in  this  remote  situa- 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  IxV 

tion,  I  contemplate  the  scenes  of  nature,  as  the  production  of 
its  great  Author,  more,  and  with  more  satisfaction,  than  I 
ever  did  before  ;  and  the  new  discoveries  that  are  now  mak- 
ing in  every  branch  of  science,  interest  me  more  than  ever  in 
this  connexion.  I  see  before  us  a  boundless  field  of  the 
noblest  investigation  ;  and  all  that  we  yet  know  appears  to  me 
as  nothing,  compared  to  what  we  are  wholly  ignorant  of,  and 
do  not,  as  yet,  perceive  any  means  of  access  to  it." 

Also,  in  a  letter  dated  Northumberland,  July  3,  1802. 

"  How  rejoiced  I  was  to  receive  your  letter,  written  wholly 
with  your  own  hand,  after  your  late  alarming  attack !  I  now 
hope  I  shall  have  more  of  them  ;  and  nothing  on  this  side  the 
grave  gives  me  more  satisfaction ;  and  yet,  considering  how 
soon  we  may  hope  to  meet  again,  the  separation  by  death 
should  not  give  us  much  concern.  While  we  live,  we  ought 
to  value  life,  and  friendship,  especially  Christian  friendship, 
as  the  balm  of  it.  But  we  have  a  better  life  in  prospect,  and 
therefore  should  not  regret  the  parting  with  the  worse,  pro- 
vided we  have  enjoyed  it  properly,  and  improved  it  so  as  to 
have  ensured  the  better.  Absolute  confidence  does  not  be- 
come any  man,  conscious,  as  we  all  must  be,  of  many  imper- 
fections, of  omissions,  if  not  of  commissions ;  but  surely  a 
general  sincere  endeavour  to  do  what  we  apprehend  to  be  our 
duty,  will  authorize  so  much  hope  as  may  be  the  reasonable 
foundatioriof  joy,  with  respect  to  a  future  state,  without  being 
chargeable  with  arrogance  or  presumption. 

You  could  not  have  made  choice  of  a  more  pleasing  or 
interesting  subject  than  that  of  the  work  which  you  have 
happily  completed,  which,  as  I  believe  it  is  in  Philadelphia, 
I  expect  soon  to  receive.  It  occupies  my  own  thoughts,  I 
may  say,  almost  constantly,  and  is  the  greatest  source  of  sat- 
isfaction that  in  my  present  situation,  and  under  my  late 
trials,  I  enjoy.  Indeed,  the  reflection  that  we  are  under  the 
government  of  the  wisest  and  best  of  Beings,  and  that  nothing 
can  befal  us  without  his  permission,  is  sufficient  to  banish  the 
very  idea  of  evil,  and  to  make  us  regard  every  thing  as  a 


IXVl  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

good  for  which  we  ought  to  be  thankful.  At  the  moment, 
none  who  have  the  hearts  and  feelings  of  men,  but  must 
grieve  for  many  things  that  he  sees  and  feels ;  but  Christian 
principles  soon  bring  relief,  and  are  capable  of  converting  all 
sorrow  into  joy.  But  this  will  be  in  proportion  to  the  strength 
of  our  faith,  in  consequence  of  the  exercise  of  it,  when,  ac- 
cording to  Hartley,  speculative  faith  is  converted  into  prac- 
tical." 

"  The  more  I  contemplate  the  great  system,  the  more  sat- 
isfaction I  find  in  it ;  and  the  structure  being  so  perfect,  there 
cannot  be  a  doubt  but  that  the  end  and  use  of  it,  in  promoting 
happiness,  will  correspond  to  it.  These  views,  as  I  take  more 
pleasure  than  ever  in  natural  history,  contribute  much  to 
brighten  the  evening  of  my  days.  But  my  great  resource  is 
the  Scripture,  which  I  have  not,  of  a  long  time,  passed  a 
single  day  without  reading  a  portion  of,  and  I  am  more  in- 
terested in  it  continually.  I  seem  now  to  see  it  with  other 
eyes,  and  all  other  reading  is  comparatively  insipid." 

Thus  serenely  and  happily,  with  a  cheerful  confidence  in 
divine  Providence  and  a  bright  hope  of  heaven,  did  the  life 
of  this  Christian  philosopher  gently  draw  to  its  close.  Con- 
stantly occupied  with  important  studies  and  strongly  inter- 
ested in  great  truths,  he  hardly  allowed  himself  to  remember 
the  trials  and  privations  of  his  lot,  while  he  acknowledged 
its  blessings  with  strong  expressions  of  admiration  and  grati- 
tude. 

During  a  visit  to  Philadelphia,  in  1801,  he  had  a  severe 
;ind  dangerous  fever,  from  the  effects  of  which  on  his  consti- 
tution he  never  perfectly  recovered.  He  again  visited  that 
city  in  the  spring  of  1803,  but  from  that  time  his  health  was 
sensibly  declining.  His  digestive  powers  were  impaired,  and 
lie  had  a  difficulty  in  swallowing  food,  which  increased  to 
such  a  degree  that  he  finally  came  to  live  exclusively  on 
liquids.  In  June  he  was  much  injured  by  a  fall  which  lamed 
him.  He  had  become  quite  deaf,  but  his  eyes  were  good, 
and  he  continued  busily  engaged  with  his  studies,  and  said 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  Ixvii 

that  he  was  only  anxious  to  live  long  enough  to  complete  the 
printing  of  the  works  in  which  he  was  engaged.  His  '  Church 
History '  and  '  Notes  on  the  Scriptures '  were  those  which  for 
some  time  had  principally  occupied  him  ;  he  was  now  pre- 
paring his  '  Comparison  of  the  Greek  Philosophy  with  Christi- 
anity.' Feeble  as  he  had  become,  he  did  not  remit  his  dili- 
gence. "  To  give  some  idea,"  says  his  son,  "  of  the  exer- 
tions he  made  even  at  this  time,  it  is  only  necessary  for  me  to 
say,  that  besides  his  miscellaneous  reading,  which  was  at  all 
times  very  great,  he  read  through  all  the  works  quoted  in  his 
comparison  of  the  different  systems  of  the  Grecian  philoso- 
phers with  Christianity,  composed  that  work,  and  transcribed 
the  whole  of  it,  in  less  than  three  months.  He  took  the  pre- 
caution of  transcribing  one  day  in  long  hand,  what  he  had 
composed  the  day  before  in  short  hand,  that  he  might  by  that 
means  leave  the  work  complete  as  far  as  it  went,  should  he 
not  live  to  complete  the  whole.  During  this  period,  he  com- 
posed in  a  day  his  second  reply  to  Dr.  Linn." 

The  remainder  of  the  history  must  be  given  in  his  son's 
own  words. 

"  In  the  last  fortnight  in  January  [1804]  he  was  troubled 
with  alarming  fits  of  indigestion  ;  his  legs  swelled  nearly  to  his 
knees,  and  his  weakness  increased  very  much.  I  wrote  for 
him,  while  he  dictated,  the  concluding  section  of  his  "  New 
Comparison,"  and  the  Preface  and  Dedication.  The  finish- 
ing this  work  was  a  source  of  great  satisfaction  to  him,  as  he 
considered  it  as  a  work  of  as  much  consequence  as  any  he 
had  ever  undertaken.  The  first  alarming  symptom  of  ap- 
proaching dissolution,  was  his  being  unable  to  speak  to  me 
upon  my  entering  his  room,  on  Tuesday  morning,  the  31st  of 
January.  In  his  diary  I  find  he  stated  his  situation  as  fol* 
lows  :  '  111  all  day —  not  able  to  speak  for  nearly  three  hours.' 
When  he  was  able  to  speak,  he  told  me  he  had  slept  well  (as  he 
uniformly  had  done  through  the  whole  of  his  illness  ;  so  that 
he  never  would  suffer  me,  though  I  frequently  requested  he 
would  do  it,  to  sleep  in  the  same  room  with  him)  that  he  feJt 


Ixviii  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

as  well  as  possible ;  that  he  got  up  and  shaved  himself  (which 
he  never  omitted  doing  every  morning,  till  within  two  days  of 
his  death) ;  that  he  went  to  his  laboratory,  and  then  found 
his  weakness  very  great ;  that  he  got  back  with  difficulty  ;  that 
just  afterward  his  granddaughter,  a  child  of  about  six  or  seven 
years  old,  came  to  him  to  claim  the  fulfilment  of  a  promise 
he  had  made  her  the  evening  before,  to  give  her  a  five-penny 
bit.  He  gave  her  the  money,  and  was  going  to  speak  to  her, 
but  found  himself  unable.  He  informed  me  of  this,  speaking 
very  slowly  a  word  at  a  time  ;  and  added,  that  he  had  never 
felt  more  pleasantly  in  his  whole  life,  than  he  did  during  the 
time  he  was  unable  to  speak.  After  he  had  taken  his  medi- 
cine, which  was  bark  and  laudanum,  and  drank  a  bason  of 
strong  mutton  broth,  he  recovered  surprisingly,  and  talked 
with  cheerfulness  to  all  who  called  upon  him,  but  as  though 
he  was  fully  sensible  that  he  had  not  long  to  live.  He  con- 
sented for  the  first  time  that  I  should  sleep  in  the  room  with 
him. 

On  Wednesday,  February  1 ,  he  writes,  '  I  was  at  times 
much  better  in  the  morning  :  capable  of  some  business : 
continued  better  all  day.'  He  spake  this  morning  as  strong  as 
usual,  and  took  in  the  course  of  the  day  a  good  deal  of  nour- 
ishment with  pleasure.  He  said,  that  he  felt  a  return  of 
strength,  and  with  it  there  was  a  duty  to  perform.  He  read 
a  good  deal  in  '  Newcome's  Translation  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment,' and  '  Stevens's  History  of  tlie  War.'  In  the  afternoon 
he  gave  mo  some  directions  how  to  proceed  with  the  printing 
his  work,  in  case  he  should  die.  He  gave  me  directions  to 
stop  the  printing  of  the  second  volume,  and  to  begin  upon  the 
third,  that  he  might  see  how  it  was  begun,  and  that  it  might 
serve  as  a  pattern  to  me  to  proceed  by. 

On  Thursday,  the  2d,  he  wrote  thus  for  the  last  time  in  his 
diary  :  '  Much  worse  :  incapable  of  business  :  Mr.  Kennedy 
came  to  receive  instructions  about  printing,  in  case  of  my 
death.'  He  sat  up,  however,  a  great  part  of  the  day,,  was 
cheerful,  and  gave  Mr.  Cooper  and  myself  some  directions. 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  txiX 

with  the  same  composure  as  though  he  had  only  been  about 
to  leave  home  for  a  short  time.  Though  it  was  fatiguing  to 
him  to  talk,  he  read  a  good  deal  in  the  works  above  men- 
tioned. 

On  Friday  he  was  much  better.  He  sat  up  a  good  part  of 
the  day  reading  '  Newcome ;  '  *  Dr.  Disney's  Translation  of 
the  Psalms  ; '  and  some  chapters  in  the  '  Greek  Testament,' 
which  was  his  daily  practice.  He  corrected  a  proof  sheet  of 
the  '  Notes  on  Isaiah."  When  he  went  to  bed  he  was  not 
so  well ;  he  had  an  idea  he  should  not  live  another  day.  At 
prayer-time  he  wished  to  have  the  children  kneel  by  his  bed- 
side, saying  it  gave  him  great  pleasure  to  see  the  little  things 
kneel ;  and,  thinking  he  possibly  might  not  see  them  again, 
he  gave  them  his  blessing. 

On  Saturday,  the  4th,  my  father  got  up  for  about  an  hour 
while  his  bed  was  made.  He  said  he  felt  more  comfortable 
in  bed  than  up.  He  read  a  good  deal,  and  looked  over 
the  first  sheet  of  the  third  volume  of  the  '  Notes,'  that  he 
might  see  how  we  were  likely  to  go  on  with  it ;  and  having 
examined  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  quotations,  a.nd  finding 
them  right,  he  said  he  was  satisfied  we  should  finish  the  work 
very  well.  In  the  course  of  the  day  he  expressed  his  grati- 
tude in  being  permitted  to  die  quietly  in  his  family,  without 
pain,  with  every  convenience  and  comfort  he  could  wish  for. 
He  dwelt  upon  the  peculiarly  happy  situation  in  which  it  had 
pleased  the  Divine  Being  to  place  him  in  life  ;  and  the  great 
advantage  he  had  enjoyed  in  the  acquaintance  and  friendship 
of  some  of  the  best  and  wisest  men  in  the  age  in  which  he 
lived,  and  the  satisfaction  he  derived  from  having  led  an  use- 
ful as  well  as  a  happy  life. 

On  Sunday  he  was  much  weaker,  and  only  sat  up  in  an 
armed  chair  while  his  bed  was  made.  He  desired  me  to  read 
to  him  the  eleventh  chapter  of  John.  I  was  going  on  to  read 
to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  but  he  stopped  me  at  the  fortyfifth 
verse.  He  dwelt  for  some  time  on  the  advantage  he  had  de- 
rived from  reading  the  scriptures  daily,  and  advised  me  to  do 


IXX  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

the  same ;  saying,  that  it  would  prove  to  me,  as  it  had  done 
to  him,  a  source  of  the  purest  pleasure.  He  desired  me  to 
reach  him  a  pamphlet  which  was  at  his  bed's  head,  '  Simp- 
son on  the  Duration  of  Future  Punihment.'  — '  It  will  be  a 
source  of  satisfaction  to  you  to  read  that  pamphlet,'  said  he, 
giving  it  to  me,  '  it  contains  my  sentiments,  and  a  belief  in 
them  will  be  a  support  to  you  in  the  most  trying  circum- 
stances, as  it  has  been  to  me.  We  shall  all  meet  finally  ;  we 
only  require  different  degrees  of  discipline,  suited  to  our  differ- 
ent tempers,  to  prepare  us  for  final  happiness.'    Upon  Mr. 

coming  into  his  room,   he  said,   '  You  see,    Sir,   I   am  still 

living.'     Mr.  observed,   he  would  always  live.     '  Yes,' 

said  he,  '  I  believe  I  shall ;  and  we  shall  all  meet  again  in 
another  and  a  better  world.'  He  said  this  with  great  ani- 
mation, laying  hold  on  Mr. 's  hand  in  both  his. 

Before  prayers  he  desired  me  to  reach  him  three  publica- 
tions, about  which  he  would  give  me  some  directions  next 
morning.  His  weakness  would  not  permit  him  to  do  it  at 
that  time. 

At  prayers  he  had  all  the  children  brought  to  his  bedside 
as  before.  After  prayers  they  wished  him  a  good  night,  and 
were  leaving  the  room.  He  desired  them  to  stay,  spoke  to 
them  each  separately.  He  exhorted  them  all  to  continue  to 
love  each  other.  'And  you,  little  thing,'  speaking  to 
Eliza,  '  remember  the  hymn  you  learned  ;  "  Birds  in  their  lit- 
tle nests  agree,"  &c.  I  am  going  to  sleep  as  well  as  you  : 
for  death  is  only  a  good,  long,  sound  sleep  in  the  grave,  and 
we  shall  meet  again.'  He  congratulated  us  on  the  dis- 
positions of  our  children  ;  said  it  was  a  satisfaction  to  see 
them  likely  to  turn  out  well ;  and  continued  for  some  time  to 
express  his  confidence  in  a  happy  immortality,  and  in  a 
future  state,  which  would  afford  us  an  ample  field  for  the  exer- 
tion of  our  faculties. 

On  Monday  morning,  the  sixth  of  February,  after  having 
lain  perfectly  still  till  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  called 
to  me,  but  in   a  fainter  tone  than  usual,  to  give  him  some 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  Ixxi 

wine  and  tincture  of  bark.  I  asked  him  how  he  felt.  He 
answered  he  had  no  pain,  but  appeared  fainting  away  gradu- 
ally. About  an  hour  after,  he  asked  me  for  some  chicken- 
broth,  of  which  he  took  a  tea-cup  full.  His  pulse  was  quick, 
weak,  and  fluttering,  his  breathing,  though  easy,  short. 
About  eight  o'clock,  he  asked  me  to  give  him  some  egg 
and  wine.  After  this  he  lay  quite  still  till  ten  o'clock,  when 
he  desired  me  and  Mr.  Cooper  to  bring  him  the  pamphlets  we 
had  looked  out  the  evening  before.  He  then  dictated  as 
clearly  and  distinctly  as  he  had  ever  done  in  his  life,  the  ad- 
ditions and  alterations  he  wished  to  have  made  in  each. 
Mr.  Cooper  took  down  the  substance  of  what  he  said,  which, 
when  he  had  done,  I  read  to  him.  He  said  Mr.  Cooper  had 
put  it  in  his  own  language  ;  he  wished  it  to  be  put  in  his.  I 
then  took  a  pen  ^and  ink  to  his  bed-side.  He  then  repeated 
over  again,  nearly  word  for  word,  what  he  had  before  said : 
and  when  I  had  done,  I  read  it  over  to  him.  He  said,  '  That 
is  right ;  I  have  now  done.'  About  half  an  hour  after,  he  de- 
sired, in  a  faint  voice,  that  we  would  move  him  from  the  bed 
on  which  he  lay  to  a  cot,  that  he  might  lie  with  his  lower 
limbs  horizontal,  and  his  head  upright.  He  died  in  about 
ten  minutes  after  we  had  moved  him,  but  breathed  his  last  so 
easy,  that  neither  myself  or  my  wife,  who  were  both  sitting 
close  to  him,  perceived  it  at  the  time.  He  had  put  his  hand 
to  his  face,  which  prevented  our  observing  it." 

It  is  not  intended  elaborately  to  draw  the  character  of 
Dr.  Priestley.  This  is  sufficiently  disclosed  in  the  narrative  of 
his  life  and  by  the  tone  of  his  writings.  They  show  that  he 
was  a  man  of  various  talents,  and  indefatigable  industry  in 
the  use  of  them.  His  theological  and  miscellaneous  writings 
have  been  collected  in  twenty-four  large  octavo  volumes,  and 
his  other  works  would  nearly  equal  these  in  quantity.  The 
whole  number  of  his  publications  exceeded  one  hundred  and 
thirty.  He  was  enabled  to  effect  so  much  by  strict  habits  of 
method  and  a  great  facility  in  labor  ;  which  enabled  him, 
though  accomplishing  more  than  most  men,  to  have  as  much 


Ixxii 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 


leisure  as  any.  His  remarkable  rapidity  in  thinking  and 
writing  was  undoubtedly  a  snare  to  him,  as  it  sometimes  be- 
trayed him  into  carelessness  and  error,  though  the  instances  of 
this  are  certainly  far  fewer  than  has  been  sometimes  repre- 
sented. His  favorite  subjects  of  study  were  those  of  natural  phi- 
losophy, especially  chemistry,  and  revealed  religion.  In  the 
former,  he  was  a  great  discoverer,  and  has  been  called  the  Fa- 
ther of  modern  chemistry.  To  the  latter  he  applied  himself  with 
an  earnest  faith  and  devoted  attachment,  which  increased  as  he 
advanced  in  life,  and  which  displayed  itself  in  perpetual  efforts 
to  make  known  its  evidences  and  to  advance  its  interests. 
When  one  perceives  how  this  was  the  object  nearest  his  heart, 
and  how  much  of  his  time  and  labor  was  occupied  in  writing 
and  publishing  against  infidelity,  he  cannot  but  feel  amazed 
and  mortified  at  that  violence  of  theological  party  spirit  which 
classes  this  defender  of  the  faith  with  unbelievers.  His  peculiar 
views  of  Christianity  were  undoubtedly  very  far  from  agreeing 
with  those  which  generally  prevail,  and  they  were  oftentimes 
expressed  in  bold  and  unmeasured  language,  adapted  to 
shock  prejudice  rather  than  to  conciliate  and  convince.  This 
was  his  fault ;  from  which  both  his  reputation  and  his  princi- 
ples have  suffered.  But  it  grew  out  of  that  frankness  and 
simplicity  which  so  eminently  distinguished  him,  and  which 
made  him  to  his  friends  the  object  of  such  confidence  and 
attachment.  Simple  as  a  child,  he  knew  no  disguise;  he  ex- 
posed himself  naked,  unguarded,  heedless,  to  all  alike,  not 
weighing  words  or  calculating  consequences,  but  uttering 
whatever  lay  in  his  thought  at  the  moment  in  the  first  words 
that  occurred  to  him.  There  was  something  in  this  childlike, 
confidential,  unsuspicious  mode  of  intercourse  extremely  win- 
ning to  those  who  were  intimately  associated  with  him  ;  and,  in 
connexion  with  his  cheerfulness,  equanimity,  and  gentleness, 
it  made  him  an  object  of  the  deepest  and  most  enthusiastic 
attachment.  Few  have  ever  had  warmer  friends.  But  it 
obviously  exposed  him  to  misapprehension  and  cavil  from 
those  who  knew  him  not,  and  who  regarded  his  opinions  with 


MEMOIR  OP  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  Ixxiii 

aversion.  They  put  a  wrong  construction  upon  it  and  were 
exasperated  by  it ;  and  they  have  signally  punished  him  for 
it,  by  culling  from  his  works  a  quantity  of  his  hasty  and  rash 
expressions,  and  publishing  them  to  the  world  as  the  delib- 
erate judgments  of  those  who  adopt  liberal  opinions  in  re- 
ligion. And  as  he  was  equally  undisguised  and  unwary  in 
his  remarks  on  the  faults  of  his  own  friends,  they  have  not 
failed  to  triumph  in  what  they  regard  as  his  testimony  to  the 
evil  consequences  of  his  religious  system.  These  citations 
from  his  works,  not  very  numerous  after  all,  have  been  copied 
from  one  writer  to  another,  till  they  have  become  a  sort  of 
stock-in-trade  in  controversy,  and  may  be  expected  to  appear 
as  a  matter  of  course  in  every  new  writer  whose  purpose  is  to 
cast  obloquy  on  Unitarian  views. 

Certainly  there  are  some  of  his  speculations  and  modes  of 
speculating,  there  is  much  in  his  hastiness  and  something  in 
his  offensiveness,  which  are  not  to  be  imitated  or  approved. 
But,  alas,  how  few  controversial  writers  have  a  right  to  cast 
the  first  stone  !  and  he  certainly  is  not  to  be  judged  for  this 
fault  without  reference  to  his  known  disposition  and  charac- 
ter. And  respecting  these,  as  they  appeared  in  ordinary  and 
private  life,  there  is  but  one  testimony.  Those  who  least 
favored  his  theological  opinions  were  among  the  first  to 
acknowledge  and  honor  his  worth  as  a  man.  Robert  Hall, 
as  remarkable  for  his  hearty  abuse  of  Unitarianism  as  for  his 
talents  and  eloquence,  could  not  withhold  his  eulogy  of  the 
character  of  Priestley.*  "  The  religious  tenets  of  Dr.  Priest- 
ley appear  to  me  erroneous  in  the  extreme ;  but  I  should 
be  sorry  to  suffer  any  difference  of  sentiment  to  diminish  my 
sensibility  to  virtue  or  my  admiration  of  genius.  From  him 
the  poisoned  arrow  will  fall  harmless."  —  "  Distinguished 
merit  will  ever  rise  superior  to  oppression,  and  draw  lustre 
from  reproach." 

The  language  of  the  celebrated  and  learned  Dr.  Parr  was 

*  See  also  above,  p.  xxxvii. 


Ixxiv  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

equally  strong.  "  Let  Dr.  Priestley,"  he  says,  "  be  confuted 
where  he  is  mistaken  ;  let  him  be  exposed  where  he  is  super- 
ficial ;  let  him  be  repressed  where  he  is  dogmatical ;  let  him 
be  rebuked  where  he  is  censorious.  But  let  not  his  attain- 
ments be  depreciated  —  because  they  are  numerous,  almost 
without  a  parallel.  Let  not  his  talents  be  ridiculed  —  be- 
cause they  are  superlatively  great.  Let  not  his  morals  be 
vilified  —  because  they  are  correct  without  austerity,  and 
exemplary  without  ostentation  —  because  they  present,  even 
to  common  observers,  the  innocence  of  a  hermit,  and  the  sim- 
plicity of  a  patriarch  ;  and  because  a  philosophic  eye  will  at 
once  discover  in  them  the  deep  fixed  root  of  virtuous  princi- 
ple, and  the  solid  trunk  of  virtuous  habit." 

Indeed  such  was  the  influence  of  his  character,  that  the 
strongest  prejudices  gave  way  on  a  personal  acquaintance, 
and  were  changed  to  affection  and  respect.  A  gentleman 
of  Philadelphia  who  knew  him  well,  has  recorded  the  two  fol- 
lowing anecdotes.* 

"  The  first  of  these  anecdotes,"  he  says,  "  was  related  to 
me  a  very  few  years  ago  by  the  late  Rev.  William  Rogers^ 
D.  D.,  a  Baptist  minister,  whose  sentiments  were  highly 
Calvinistic,  but  who  was  strongly  attached  to  Dr.  Priestley, 
and  took  pleasure  in  cultivating  his  acquaintance.  The 
doctor,  when  in  Philadelphia,  would  occasionally  call  on 
Dr.  Rogers,  and  without  any  formal  invitation  pass  an  evening 
at  his  house.  One  afternoon  he  was  there  when  Dr.  Rogers 
was  not  at  home,  having  been  assured  by  Mrs.  Rogers  that 

her  husband  would  soon  be  there.     Meanwhile,  Mr. ,  a 

Baptist  minister  called,  and  being  a  person  of  rough  manners, 
Mrs.  Rogers  was  a  good  deal  concerned  lest  he  should  say 
something  disrespectful  to  Dr.  Priestley  in  case  she  introduced 
the  Doctor  to  him.  At  last,  however,  she  ventured  to  an- 
nounce   Dr.   Priestley's    name,    who  put  out  his  hand ;  but 


*    Mr.   James   Taylor.      See    Rutt's    Life    and    Correspondence   of 
Priestley,  Vol.  II.  2G4,  343. 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEif.  IxXV 

instead  of  taking  it,  the  other  immediately  drew  himself  back, 
saying,  as  if  astonished  to  meet  with  Dr.  Priestley  in  the 
house  of  one  of  his  brethren,  and  afraid  of  being  contaminated 
by  having  any  social  intercourse  with  him,  '  Dr.  Joseph 
Priestley  !  I  can't  be  cordial.' 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  that  by  this  speech  Mrs.  Rogers  was 
greatly  embarrassed.  Dr.  Priestley  observing  this,  instantly 
relieved  her  by  saying,  and  with  all  that  benevolent  expression 
of  countenance  and  pleasantness  of  manner  for  which  he  was 
remarkable,  '  Well,  well,  Madam,  you  and  I  can  be  cordial ; 

and  as  Dr.  Rogers  will  be  soon  with  us,  Mr. and  he 

can  converse  together,  so  that  we  shall  all  be  very  com- 
fortable.' Thus  encouraged,  Mrs.  Rogers  asked  Dr.  Priestley 
some  questions  relative  to  the  Scripture  prophecies,  to  which 
he  made  suitable  replies;    and  before   Dr.  Rogers  arrived, 

Mr, was   listening   with  much    attention,    sometimes 

making  a  remark,  or  putting  a  question.  The  evening  was 
passed  in  the  greatest  harmony,  with  no  inclination  on  the 

part  of  Mr.  to  terminate  the  conversation.     At  last 

Dr.  Priestley,  pulling  out  his  watch,  informed  Mr. that 

as  it  was  ten  o'clock,  it  was  time  that  two  old  men  like 
them  were  at  their  quarters.  The  other  at  first  was  not 
willing  to  believe  that  Dr.  Priestley's  watch  was  accurate  ; 
but  finding  that  it  was  correct,  he  took  his  leave  with  apparent 
regret,  observing,  that  he  had  never  spent  a  shorter  and  more 
pleasant  evening.  He  then  went  away,  Dr.  Priestley  accom- 
panying him  until  it  became  necessary  to  separate.  Next 
morning  he  called  on  his  friend  Dr.  Rogers,  when  he  made 
the  following  frank  and  manly  declaration :  '  You  and  I  well 
know  that  Dr.  Priestley  is  quite  wrong  in  regard  to  his  the- 
ology ;  but,  notwithstanding  this,  he  is  a  great  and  good 
man,  and  I  behaved  to  him  at  our  first  coming  together  like 
a  fool  and  a  brute.'  " 

"  A  gentleman  of  New  York,  of  excellent  understanding, 
but  a  confirmed  Calvinist,  with  whom  I  was  in  habits  of 
friendly  intercourse,  although   he  had  never  seen  Dr.  Priest- 


IxXVi    V  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

ley,  would  frequently  speak  of  him  as  a  person  of  no  vital 
religion,  and  as  one  with  whom  he  would  not  choose  to  be- 
come intimately  acquainted.  Having  occasion  to  visit  Phil- 
adelphia, he  called  on  me  immediately  on  his  arrival.  Dr. 
Priestley  was  spending  the  afternoon  with  me,  and  my  friend 
being  seated  next  to  the  doctor,  seemed  so  much  engaged  in 
conversation  with  him,  that  he  had  little  to  say  to  any  one 
else.  On  taking  his  leave,  to  my  astonishment  he  exclaimed, 
'  Who  is  that  delightful  old  gentleman  I  have  been  convers- 
ing with  1 '  for  when  introduced  he  had  not  attended  to  the 
name.  As  I  naturally  concluded  that  the  bare  mention  of 
this  would  instantly  destroy  the  charm,  I  was  in  no  haste  to 
gratify  his  curiosity  ;  but  when  the  question  was  repeated 
and  answered,  he  replied,  with  his  usual  frankness,  '  All 
that  I  have  formerly  said  respecting  Dr.  Priestley  is  nonsense. 
I  have  now  seen  him  for  myself,  and,  remember,  I  will  never 
forgive  you  if  you  do  not  put  me  in  the  way  of  seeing  more  of 
him.' 

At  Philadelphia,  Dr.  Priestley's  name  is  often  mentioned 
with  admiration  and  warm  feeling  by  those  who  knew  his 
worth,  and  who,  notwithstanding  their  difference  of  religious 
belief,  courted  his  society,  and  cultivated  iiis  friendship.  A 
very  few  years  ago,  when  a  young  popular  preacher  spoke  of 
Dr.  Priestley  in  the  pulpit  as  similar  to  Hume  and  Voltaire, 
the  injustice  of  the  comparison  was  openly  complained  of  by 
many  worthy  persons  of  different  denominations,  who  were 
old  enough  to  remember  with  what  ability  and  effect  Dr. 
Priestley  had  pleaded  the  cause  of  divine  revelation  at  Phila- 
delphia, particularly  in  those  discourses  delivered  in  1796." 

Mr.  W.  Matthews,  who  was  persuaded  one  Sunday  after- 
noon to  accompany  a  friend  to  Dr.  Priestley's  chapel  in  Bir- 
mingham, has  told  us  what  became  of  his  previous  impres- 
sions respecting  him.  He  had  been  accustomed  to  hear  him 
preached  against  as  "  a  demon  of  heresy,"  "  a  proud  and 
haughty  scorner." 

"  When  we  entered  the  place,"  he  says,  "we  found  a  man 


MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  Ixxvil 

of  about  the  middle  stature,  slenderly  made,  remarkably  placid, 
modest,  and  courteous,  pouring  out,  with  the  simplicity  of  a 
child,  the  great  stores  of  his  most  capacious  mind  to  a  con- 
siderable number  of  young  persons  of  both  sexes  ;  whom, 
with  the  familiarity  and  kindness  of  a  friend,  he  encouraged 
to  ask  him  questions,  either  during  the  lecture  or  after  it,  if 
he  advanced  any  thing  which  wanted  explanation,  or  struck 
them  in  a  light  different  from  his  own.  The  impression 
made  upon  us  was  so  strong,  that  we  never  failed  afterwards 
to  attend  on  such  occasions  in  order  to  profit  by  his  lessons, 
and  we  frequently  went  to  hear  him  preach,  until  he  was 
driven  from  the  town  in  1791. 

His  lectures  were  peculiarly  instructive,  and  the  general 
tenor  of  his  sermons  was  practical,  urging  to  the  cultivation 
of  universal  benevolence,  the  earnest  pursuit  of  knowledge, 
and  the  most  unrestrained  free  inquiry  upon  all  important 
subjects.  He  was  the  most  unassuming,  candid  man  I  ever 
knew ;  and  never  did  I  hear  from  his  lips,  either  in  lecture 
or  sermon,  one  illiberal  sentiment,  or  one  harsh  expression 
concerning  any  persons  who  differed  from  him,  not  even  of 
the  individuals  who  were  so  much  in  the  practice  of  abusing- 
him  and  traducing  his  character." 

"  My  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Priestley,"  says  Mr.  Taylor, 
in  a  letter  recently  received,  "  commenced  early  in  1797  ; 
it  soon  became  intimate,  and,  during  his  subsequent  vis- 
its to  Philadelphia,  in  1801  and  1803,  I  enjoyed  much  of 
his  company.  He  was  easy  of  access,  and  his  conversation 
was  peculiarly  attractive.  He  was  neither  reserved  nor 
talkative.  Although  his  stores  of  knowledge  were  uncom- 
monly great,  he  made  no  display  of  his  attainments ;  yet, 
when  called  on,  he  was  never  unwilling  to  contribute  his 
share  to  the  entertainment  or  instruction  of  those  with 
whom  he  was  associated.  He  exacted  neither  homage  nor 
deference ;  it  seemed  as  if  he  was  utterly  unconscious  of 
having  risen  far  above  the  common  level.  The  expression  of 
his  countenance  was  that  of  sedateness  and  benignity,  and 


IXXX  MEMOIR  OF  DR.  PRIESTLEY. 

the  eulogy  of  a  friend,  or  the  censures  of  an  enemy,  or  even 
the  delineation  of  an  impartial  witness.  We  know  him  only 
from  our  own  observation.  It  is  the  object  of  these  pages  to 
present  the  subject  of  them  to  the  observation  of  men.  Here 
he  may  be  fairly  seen.  No  man  is  more  exactly  discerned  in 
his  writings  than  Dr.  Priestley.  As  one  of  his  respectful  and 
admiring  opponents,  Toplady,  said  of  him,  "  He  is  like  a 
piece  of  crystal,  which  one  can  take  up  in  his  hand  and  look 
through."  His  works  show  him  as  he  is,  without  disguise. 
And  as  our  object  is  not  to  eulogize  indiscriminately  an  im- 
perfect man  any  more  than  to  join  an  indiscriminate  outcry 
against  him ;  but  simply  to  do  an  act  of  common  justice  by 
putting  in  a  fair  light  the  virtues  of  his  extraordinary  life  ;  we 
are  satisfied  that  the  method  here  pursued  is  the  most  faith- 
ful, as  it  certainly  must  be  the  most  interesting. 


VIEWS 

OF 

CHRISTIAN   TRUTH,    PIETY,    AND 
MORALITY. 


THE    DUTY    OF  NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

A  SERMON. 


Romans,  xiv.  7. 
For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself. 

It  is  the  excellence  of  our  rational  nature,  that  by  it  we  are 
capable  of  living  to  some  known  end,  and  of  governing  our 
lives  and  conduct  by  some  rule ;  whereas  brute  creatures 
necessarily  live  and  act  at  random,  just  as  the  present  appe- 
tite influences  them.  Let  us,  then,  my  brethren,  make  the 
most  of  this  our  prerogative,  by  proposing  to  ourselves  the 
noblest  end  of  human  life,  and  engaging  in  such  a  course  of 
actions  as  will  reflect  the  greatest  honor  upon  our  nature,  and 
be  productive  of  the  most  solid  and  lasting  happiness,  both  in 
the  performance  and  the  review  of  them. 

Agreeably  to  this,  let  the  principal  use  we  make  of  our 
understanding  be,  to  discover  what  the  great  end  of  life  is ; 
1 


»  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

and  then  let  us  use  the  resolution  and  fortitude  that  is  either 
natural  to  us,  or  acquired  by  us,  in  steadily  conforming  our- 
selves to  it. 

But,  as  the  regular  investigation  of  the  rule  of  life  from  the 
light  of  nature  only,  may  be  tedious,  and  perhaps  at  last 
unsatisfactory ;  let  us,  without  waiting  for  the  result  of  such 
an  inquiry  upon  the  principles  of  reason,  take  a  more  clear 
and  sure  guide,  the  Ploly  Scriptures,  in  so  important  a  subject, 
and  see  afterwards  whether  reason  and  experience  will  not 
give  their  sanction  to  that  decision. 

The  great  end  of  human  life  is  negatively  expressed  by 
the  apostle  Paul  in  my  text,  "  None  of  us  liveth  to  himself, 
and  no  man  dieth  to  himself;  "  and  if  we  attend  to  the  con- 
nexion of  these  words,  we  shall  find  what,  in  the  apostle's 
idea,  is  the  true  end  to  which  men  ought  to  live. 

The  apostle  is  here  treating  of  a  controversy  which  had 
arisen  in  the  Christian  church,  about  the  lawfulness  of  eating 
meat  sacrificed  to  idols,  and  keeping  holy  certain  days, 
together  with  some  other  ceremonious  observances,  and  ex- 
horting both  parties  to  do  nothing  that  might  give  offence,  or 
be  a  snare  to  the  other,  lest,  by  their  means,  any  one  should 
perish  for  whom  Christ  died. 

As  the  best  foundation  for  mutual  tenderness  and  charity, 
he  reminds  them  that  both  parties  acted,  with  regard  to  all 
ritual  observances,  as  they  imagined  was  the  will  of  Christ. 
"He  that  observeth  a  day,  observeth  it  to  the  Lord;  and  he 
that  observeth  not  a  day,  to  the  Lord  he  observeth  it  not." 
And  after  giving  his  sanction  in  the  fullest  manner  to  this 
maxim,  and  deciding,  with  respect  to  this  particular  case, 
that  all  Christians  ought  to  act  according  to  the  will  of 
Christ,  and  consult  the  good  and  the  peace  of  their  fellow- 
Christians  ;  he  declares  in  general,  that  "  no  man  liveth  to 
himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself;  but  whether  we  live, 
we  live  unto  the  Lord,  or  whether  we  die,  we  die  unto  the 
Lord ; "  that  is,  in  all  our  actions,  our  views  sliould  not  be 
directed  to  ourselves,  but  to  the  interest  of  our  holy  religion. 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  6 

And  as  the  Christian  religion  has  for  its  object  the  happiness 
of  mankind,  (since  Christ  cime  to  bless  us  in  turning  us 
away  from  our  iniquities,)  it  is  the  same  thing  as  if  he  had 
said,  The  great  scope  of  all  our  conduct  should  be  the  real 
welfare  of  ail  to  whom  our  influence  can  extend. 

We  should,  therefore,  my  brethren,  according  to  this  apos- 
tolical maxim,  by  no  means  confine  our  regards  to  ourselves, 
and  have  our  own  pleasure,  profit,  or  advantage  in  view  in 
every  thing  we  undertake  ;  but  look  out  of,  and  beyond  our- 
selves, and  take  a  generous  concern  in  the  happiness  of  all 
our  brethren  of  mankind  ;  make  their  sorrows  our  sorrows, 
their  joys  our  joys,  and  their  happiness  our  pursuit :  and  it  is 
in  this  disinterested  conduct,  and  in  this  only,  that  we  shall 
find  our  own  true  happiness. 

That  this  is  the  true  rule  of  human  life,  will  appear, 
whether  wc  consider  the  course  of  nature  witliout  us,  the 
situation  of  mankind  in  this  world,  or  take  a  nearer  view  of 
the  principles  of  human  nature.  And  we  shall  likewise  find 
that  several  considerations,  drawn  from  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
will  farther  confirm  and  illustrate  this  maxim  of  human  con- 
duct, which  was  first  suggested  by  them. 

1.  This  disinterested  conduct  of  man  is  most  agreeable  to 
the  course  of  nature  without  us.  There  is  no  part  of  the 
creation  but,  if  it  be  viewed  attentively,  will  expose  the  sel- 
fishness and  narrow-mindedness  of  men :  for  among  all  that 
infinite  variety  of  things  and  creatures  which  present  them- 
selves to  our  view,  not  one  of  them  appears  to  have  been 
made  merely  for  itself,  but  every  thing  bears  a  relation  to 
something  else.  They  can  hardly  be  said  to  aflbrd  any 
matter  for  contemplation  singly,  and  are  most  of  all  the  objects 
of  our  admiration  when  considered  as  connected  with  other 
things.  The  primary  uses  of  things  are  few,  butthe  secondary 
uses  of  every  thing  are  almost  infinite.  Indeed,  the  secondary 
uses  of  things  are  so  many  that  we  are  lost  in  the  multiplicity 
of  them  ;  whereas  we  can  give  no  answer,  if  we  be  asked 
what  is  the  primary  use  of  any  thing,  but  this  general  one, 


4  THE    BUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

vi^hich  will  equally  suit  every  thing,  —  that  every  creature 
which  is  capable  of  happiness,  was  made  to  enjoy  that  share 
of  it  which  is  suited  to  its  nature. 

Now  what  do  we  mean  when  we  say  that  the  several  parts 
of  nature  are  adapted  to  one  another,  but  that  they  are  made 
for  the  use  of  one  another  ?  I  shall  mention  only  a  few  of 
these  mutual  relations  and  uses  ;  beginning  with  those  parts 
of  nature  which  are  the  most  remote  from  one  another,  and 
whose  mutual  relations  and  uses  are  the  least  obvious,  and  so 
proceed  to  those  in  which  they  are  more  obvious.  The  sun, 
the  moon,  the  planets,  and  comets,  are  strictly  connected,  and 
combined  into  one  system.  Each  body,  though  so  exceed- 
ingly remote  from  the  rest,  is  admirably  adapted,  by  its  situa- 
tion, magnitude,  and  velocity  in  its  orbit,  to  the  state  of  the 
whole,  in  those  respects  and  many  others.  This  connexion, 
probably,  also  extends  to  the  remotest  bodies  in  the  universe ; 
so  that  it  is  impossible  to  say  that  the  withdrawing  of  any  one 
would  not,  in  some  respect  or  other,  affect  all  the  rest. 

The  clouds  and  the  rain  are  designed  to  moisten  the  earth, 
and  the  sun  to  warm  it ;  and  the  texture  and  juices  of  the 
earth  are  formed  so  as  to  receive  the  genial  influences  of 
both,  in  order  to  ripen  and  bring  to  perfection  that  infinite 
variety  of  plants  and  fruits,  the  seeds  of  which  are  deposited 
in  it.  Again,  is  not  each  plant  peculiarly  adapted  to  its 
proper  soil  and  climate,  so  that  every  country  is  furnished 
with  those  productions  which  are  peculiarly  suited  to  it  ? 
Are  not  all  plants  likewise  suited  to  the  various  kinds  of  ani- 
mals which  feed  upon  them  ?  So  that,  though  they  enjoy  a 
kind  of  life  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  all  the  influences 
they  are  exposed  to  are  adapted  to  promote  that  life,  they 
themselves  are  as  much  adapted  to  maintain  that  higher  kind 
of  life  which  is  enjoyed  by  creatures  of  the  animal  nature. 

The  various  kinds  of  animals  are,  again,  in  a  thousand 
ways  adapted  to,  and  formed  for  the  use  of,  one  another. 
Beasts  of  a  fiercer  nature  prey  upon  the  tamer  cattle  :  fishes 
of  a  larger  size  live  almost  wholly  upon  those  of  a  less  :  and 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  5 

there  are  some  birds  which  prey  upon  land  animals,  others 
upon  fishes,  and  others  upon  creatures  of  their  own  species. 

That  brute  animals  are  excellently  adapted  to  the  use  of 
man,  and  were,  therefore,  made  to  be  subservient  to  the  use 
of  man,  man  will  not  deny.  The  strength  of  some,  and  the 
sagacity  of  others,  are  as  much  at  our  command,  and  are  as 
effectually  employed  for  our  use,  as  if  they  belonged  to  our- 
selves. We  can  even  turn  to  our  advantage  every  passion  of 
their  nature,  so  that  we  can  safely  repose  the  greatest  confi- 
dence in  many  of  them.  They  are  the  guardians  of  our  pos- 
sessions and  of  our  lives.  They  even  enter  into  our  resent- 
ments, and,  at  our  instigation,  take  part  in  our  revenge. 

Having  now  advanced  to  man,  the  chief  of  this  lower 
creation,  and  shown  that  all  creatures  of  the  vegetable  and 
merely  animal  nature,  live  and  die  for  his  use,  pride  might 
bid  us  here  break  off  the  chain  of  mutual  relations  and  uses, 
which  we  have  been  pursuing  thus  far,  and  leave  man  in  the 
enjoyment  of  his  superiority  ;  but,  —  beside  that  it  is  contrary 
to  the  analogy  of  nature,  in  which  we  see  nothing  but  what 
has  innumerable  secondary  relations  and  uses,  that  man  only 
should  be  made  for  himself ;  — 

2.  The  situation  of  man  in  this  world,  or  the  external  cir- 
cumstances of  human  nature,  still  oblige  us  to  assert  with 
Paul,  that  "  no  man  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to 
himself"  Man  himself  is  but  a  link,  though  the  highest  link 
of  this  great  chain,  all  the  parts  of  which  are  closely  con- 
nected by  the  hand  of  our  divine  Author.  Nay,  the  more 
various  and  extensive  are  our  powers,  either  for  action  or 
enjoyment,  on  that  very  account,  the  more  multiplied  and 
extensive  are  our  wants  ;  so  that,  at  the  same  time  that  they 
are  marks  of  our  superiority  to,  they  are  bonds  of  our  connexion 
with,  and  signs  of  our  dependence  upon,  the  various  parts  of 
the  world  around  us,  and  of  our  subservience  to  one  another. 

In  fact,  every  time  that  we  gratify  any  of  our  senses,  though 
it  be  in  consequence  of  the  exertion  of  our  own  powers, 
we  are  reminded  (if  we  will  be  so  just  to  ourselves  as  to  take 


b  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

the  hint)  of  our  dependence  upon  something  without  us ;  for 
the  means  of  our  gratification  are,  in  all  cases,  evidently 
without  ourselves. 

If  we  be  served  by  the  vegetables  and  the  animals  which 
this  earth  affords,  we  are  obliged,  in  our  turn,  to  favor  their 
propagation,  to  promote  their  cultivation,  and  to  preserve 
them  in  a  healthy  and  vigorous  state ;  and  employment  of 
this  kind  doth,  in  fact,  take  up  a  great  part  of  our  attention 
and  labor.  We  must  make  the  creature  in  some  measure 
happy,  if  we  would  be  effectually  served  by  it.  And  the 
attention  which  domestic  animals  give  to  us,  and  their  anxiety 
for  us,  is  not  to  be  compared  to  the  attention  we  bestow  on 
them,  and  the  anxiety  we  undergo  on  their  account. 

But  my  subject  leads  me  to  attend  to  the  connexion  which 
man  has  with  man,  rather  than  with  the  inferior  part  of  the 
creation,  though  it  seemed  not  improper  to  point  out  that. 
In  general,  nothing  can  be  more  obvious  than  the  mutual 
dependence  of  men  on  one  another.  We  see  it  in  the  most 
barbarous  countries,  where  the  connexions  of  mankind  are 
the  fewest  and  the  slightest.  This  dependence  is  more  sen- 
sible, indeed,  in  a  state  of  infancy,  when  the  least  remission 
of  the  care  of  others  would  be  fatal  to  us ;  but  it  is  as  real 
and  necessary,  and  even  vastly  more  extensive,  though  less 
striking,  when  we  are  more  advanced  in  life,  especially  in 
civilized  countries.  And  the  more  perfect  is  the  state  of  civil 
society,  the  more  various  and  extended  are  the  connexions 
which  man  has  with  man,  and  the  less  able  is  he  to  subsist 
comfortably  without  the  help  of  others. 

The  business  of  human  life,  where  it  is  enjoyed  in  per- 
fection, is  subdivided  into  so  many  parts,  (each  of  which  is 
executed  by  different  hands,)  that  a  person  who  would  reap 
the  benefit  of  all  the  arts  of  life  in  perfection,  must  employ, 
and  consequently  be  dependent  upon,  thousands ;  he  must 
even  be  under  obligations  to  numbers  of  whom  he  has  not 
the  least  knowledge. 

These  connexions  of  man  witli  n»an  are  every  day  growing 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  7 

more  extensive.  The  most  distant  parts  of  the  earth  are  now- 
connected  :  every  part  is  every  day  growing  still  more  neces- 
sary to  every  other  part ;  and  the  nearer  advances  we  make  to 
general  happiness,  and  the  more  commodious  our  circum- 
stances in  this  world  are  made  for  us,  the  more  intimately  and 
extensively  we  become  connected  with,  and  the  more  closely 
we  are  dependent  upon,  one  another. 

By  thus  tracing  the  progress  of  man  to  that  state  of  happi- 
ness which  he  now  enjoys,  we  may  be  led  to  think  that,  in 
pursuing  it  still  farther,  to  a  more  happy  state  of  being, 
adapted  to  our  social  natures,  we  shall  find  ourselves  still 
more  variously  and  intimately  connected  with,  and  more 
closely  dependent  upon  one  another ;  which  affords  a  far 
nobler  and  more  pleasing  prospect  to  a  person  of  an  enlarged 
mind  and  of  a  social  and  benevolent  disposition,  than  he 
could  have  from  supposing  that,  after  death,  all  our  mutual 
connexions  will  be  broken,  and  that  every  good  man  will  be 
made  transcendently  happy  within  himself,  having  no  inter- 
course, or  at  least  necessary  intercourse,  with  any  being  be- 
sides his  Maker. 

By  these  arguments,  which  are  drawn  from  facts  that  are 
obvious  to  every  person  who  attends  to  the  external  circum- 
stances of  mankind,  it  is  plain  that  no  man  can  live  of  him- 
self; and  even  that  the  rich  are,  in  fact,  more  dependent 
upon  others  than  the  poor;  for,  having  more  wants,  they 
have  occasion  for  more  and  more  frequent  supplies.  Now  it 
will  easily  be  allowed,  that  every  reason  why  we  cannot  live 
of  ourselves,  is  an  argument  why  we  ought  not  to  live  to 
ourselves:  for  certainly  no  one  receives  an  obligation,  but  he 
ought  to  confer  one.  Every  connexion  must,  in  some  measure, 
be  mutual.  And,  indeed,  the  circulation  of  good  offices 
would  in  a  great  measure  cease,  if  the  passage  were  not  as 
open  and  as  free  from  obstruction,  in  one  part  of  the  common 
channel  as  another.  The  rich,  if  they  would  receive  the 
greatest  advantages  from  society,  must  contribute  to  the  hap- 
piness of  it.     If  they  act  upon  different  maxims,  and  think  to 


8  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING   TO    OURSELVES. 

avail  themselves  of  the  pleasures  of  society  without  promoting 
the  good  of  it,  they  wi-ll  never  know  the  true  pleasures  of 
society.  And,  in  the  end,  they  will  be  found  to  have  enjoyed 
the  least  themselves,  who  have  least  contributed  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  others. 

Thus  it  appears,  from  a  view  of  the  external  circumstances 
of  mankind,  that  man  was  not  made  to  live  to  himself  The 
same  truth  may  be  inferred, 

3.  From  a  nearer  inspection  of  the  principles  of  human 
nature,  and  the  springs  of  human  actions. 

If  any  man  look  into  himself,  and  consider  the  springs  and 
motives  of  his  own  actions,  he  will  find  that  there  are  prin- 
ciples in  his  nature  which  would  be  of  no  use,  were  the  inter- 
course he  has  with  his  fellow-creatures  cut  off;  for  that,  both 
the  efficient  and  the  final  causes  of  their  operations  are  with- 
out himself  They  are  views  of  mankind  and  their  situations, 
which  call  those  principles  into  action  ;  and  if  we  trace  the 
operation  of  them,  we  shall  clearly  see  that,  though  they  be 
strictly  connected  with  private  happiness,  their  ultimate  and 
proper  object  is  the  happiness  of  society. 

What  other  account  can  we  give  of  that  impulse  which  we 
all,  more  or  less,  feel  for  society?  And  whence  is  that  rest- 
less and  painful  dissatisfaction  which  a  man  feels  when  he  is 
long  excluded  from  it,  but  that,  in  such  a  solitary  condition, 
his  faculties  have  not  their  proper  exercise,  and  he  is,  as  it 
were,  out  of  his  proper  element  ? 

Whence  is  that  quick  sensibility  which  we  are  conscious 
of,  with  respect  to  both  the  joys  and  the  sorrows  of  our  fellow- 
creatures,  if  their  happiness  or  misery  were  a  matter  of  indif- 
ference to  us  ?  Can  we  feel  what  is  sometimes  called  the 
contagion  of  the  passions,  when  we  find  that  our  minds 
ontract  a  kind  of  gloom  and  heaviness  in  the  company  of  the 
melancholy,  and  that  this  melancholy  vanishes  in  company 
which  is  innocently  cheerful,  and  question  the  influence 
of  social  connexions  ?  Much  less  can  the  reality  or  the 
power  of  the  social   principle   be  doubted  when   a   fellow- 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  9 

creature  in  distress  calls  forth  the  most  exquisite  feelings  of 
compassion,  attended  with  instant  and  strong  efforts  towards 
his  relief. 

So  essential  a  part  of  our  nature  are  these  social  passions, 
that  it  is  impossible  for  any  man  wholly  to  escape  the  influ- 
ence of  them ;  but  if  we  would  be  witness  of  their  strongest 
effects,  and  see  them  branched  out  into  that  beautiful  subor- 
dination which  corresponds  to  all  the  varieties  of  our  mutual 
relations,  we  must  look  into  domestic  life.  There  we  shall 
clearly  see  that  the  most  frequent  and  almost  the  only  causes 
of  man's  joys  and  sorrows  are  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  others, 
and  that  the  immediate  aim  of  all  his  actions  is  the  well-being 
and  happiness  of  others. 

Doth  not  the  sense  of  honor  in  the  human  breast  derive  all 
its  force  from  the  influence  which  social  connexions  have 
over  us  ?  Of  what  use  could  it  be,  but  to  beings  formed  for 
society  ?  What  do  we  infer  from  our  dread  of  infamy,  and 
from  our  being  so  strongly  actuated  by  a  passion  for  fame, 
and  also  from  the  universality  and  extent  of  this  principle, 
but  that  our  nature  obliges  us  to  keep  up  a  regard  to  others  in 
our  whole  conduct,  and  that  the  Author  of  nature  intended  we 
should  ?  And  is  it  not  a  farther  evidence  of  the  ultimate 
design  of  this  principle,  that,  in  general,  the  means  of  being 
distinguished,  at  least  of  gaining  a  solid  and  lasting  reputa- 
tion among  men,  is  to  be  useful  to  mankind ;  public  utility 
being  the  most  direct  road  to  true  fame  1 

Every  noble  and  exalted  faculty  of  our  nature  is  either 
directly  of  a  social  nature,  or  tends  to  strengthen  the  social 
principle.  Nothing  can  be  more  evident  than  that  the  dic- 
tates of  conscience  strongly  enforce  the  practice  of  benevo- 
lence ;  and  the  pleasures  of  benovolence  certainly  constitute 
the  greatest  part  of  those  pleasures  which  we  refer  to  the 
moral  sense.  They  must  necessarily  do  so,  while  the  founda- 
tion of  all  virtue  and  right  conduct  is  the  happiness  of  society  ; 
for  then  every  reflection  that  we  have  done  our  duty,  must  be 
the  same  thing  as  a  reflection  that  we  have  contributed  what 
was  in  our  power  to  the  good  of  our  fellow-creatures. 


10  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

Lastly,  of  what  doth  devotion  itself  consist,  but  the  exercise 
of  the  social  affections  ?  What  are  the  dispositions  of  our 
minds  which  are  called  forth  into  action  in  private  or  public 
prayer,  but  reverence  for  true  greatness,  humility,  gratitude, 
love,  and  confidence  in  God,  as  the  greatest  and  best  of 
beings ;  qualities  of  the  most  admirable  use  and  effect  in 
social  life. 

I  may  add,  that  not  only  are  the  highest  and  the  worthiest 
principles  of  human  conduct  either  truly  social,  or  a  reinforce- 
ment of  the  social  principle,  but  even  the  lowest  appetites 
and  passions  of  our  nature  are  far  from  being  indifferent  to 
social  connexions,  considerations,  and  influences.  That  the 
pleasures  we  receive  from  the  fine  arts,  as  those  of  music, 
poetry,  and  painting,  and  the  like,  are  enjoyed  but  very  im- 
perfectly except  in  company,  is  very  evident  to  all  persons 
who  have  the  least  taste  for  those  pleasures.  I  may  even 
venture  to  say,  that  there  is  hardly  a  voluptuary,  the  most 
devoted  to  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  but  indulges  himself 
with  more  satisfaction  in  company  than  alone. 

Having  given  this  general  view  of  the  social  turn  of  our 
whole  natures,  whereby  we  are  continually  led  out  of  our- 
selves in  our  pursuit  of  happiness  ;  I  shall  now  consider  far- 
ther, how  all  our  appetites  and  passions,  which  are  the 
springs  of  all  our  actions,  do,  in  their  own  nature,  tend  to 
lead  us  out  of  ourselves,  and  how  much  our  happiness  depends 
upon  our  keeping  their  proper  objects  in  view,  and  upon  our 
minds  being  thereby  constantly  engaged  upon  something  for- 
eign to  themselves ;  after  which  I  shall  show  what  are  the 
fittest  objects  thus  to  engage  our  attention. 

In  order  to  preserve  mutual  connexion,  dependence,  and 
harmony  among  all  his  works,  it  has  pleased  our  Divine 
Author  to  appoint,  that  all  our  appetites  and  desires,  to  what- 
ever sense,  external  or  internal,  they  be  referred,  should 
point  to  something  beyond  ourselves  for  their  gratification  ;  so 
that  the  idea  of  self  is  not  in  the  least  necessary  to  a  state  of 
the  highest  enjoyment. 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  11 

When  may  men  be  said  to  be  happy,  but  when  their  facul- 
ties are  properly  exercised  in  the  pursuit  of  those  things  which 
give  them  pleasure  ?  I  say  the  pursuit  rather  than  the  enjoy- 
ment, not  because  enjoyment  makes  no  part  of  our  happiness, 
but  because  the  vigorous  and  agreeable  sensations  with  which 
our  minds  are  impressed  during  the  pursuit  of  a  favorite 
object  are  generally,  at  least  in  this  life,  of  vastly  more  con- 
sideration. The  pleasure  we  receive  the  instant  we  arrive  at 
the  height  of  our  wishes  may  be  more  exquisite,  but  the  others 
are  of  much  longer  continuance  ;  and,  immediately  upon  the 
gratification  of  any  of  our  desires,  the  mind  is  instantly  reach- 
ing after  some  new  object. 

Supposing  now  the  mind  of  any  person  to  be  fully  and 
constantly  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  a  proper  object,  to  the 
possession  of  which  he  is  sensible  he  every  day  makes  near 
approaches,  and  his  desires  be  not  so  eager  as  to  make  him 
uneasy  during  the  pursuit ;  what  more  is  requisite  to  make  him 
as  happy  as  his  nature  can  bear  ?  He  will  not  be  the  less 
happy  because  the  object  he  is  in  pursuit  of  is  foreign  to  him- 
self; nor  would  it  make  him  any  happier  to  have  the  idea  of 
its  contributing  to  his  happiness.  Nay,  it  may  be  shown, 
that  it  were  better  for  us  in  general,  with  respect  to  real 
enjoyment,  never  to  have  the  idea  of  the  relation  which  the 
objects  of  our  pursuit  bear  to  ourselves;  and  this  is  most  of  all 
evident  with  respect  to  the  higher  pleasures  of  our  nature, 
from  which  we  derive  our  greatest  happiness. 

Our  benevolence,  for  instance,  leads  us  immediately  to 
relieve  and  oblige  others.  Pleasure,  indeed,  always  attends 
generous  actions,  and  is  consequent  upon  them ;  but  the 
satisfaction  we  receive  in  our  minds  from  having  done  kind 
offices  to  others,  is  far  less  pure,  and  less  perfectly  enjoyed, 
if  at  all,  when  we  had  this,  or  any  other  private  gratification, 
in  view  before  the  action. 

In  like  manner,  he  who  courts  applause,  and  does  worthy 
actions  solely  with  a  view  to  obtain  it,  can  have  no  knowledge 
of  the  genuine  pleasure  arising  either  from  the  good  action 


12  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

itself,  or  the  applause  that  is  given  to  it ;  because  he  is  sen- 
sible, in  his  own  mind,  that  if  those  persons  who  praise  his 
conduct  were  acquainted  with  the  real  motive  of  it,  and 
knew  that  he  meant  nothing  more,  by  his  pretended  acts  of 
piety  and  benevolence,  than  to  gain  their  applause,  they 
would  be  so  far  from  admiring  and  commending,  that  they 
would  despise  him  for  it. 

It  is  evident,  for  the  same  reason,  that  no  person  can  enjoy 
the  applause  of  his  own  mind  on  account  of  any  action  which 
he  did  with  a  view  to  gain  it.  The  pleasures  of  a  good  con- 
science, or,  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  those  of  the  moral 
sense,  can  not  be  enjoyed  but  by  a  person  who  steadily 
obeys  the  dictates  of  his  conscience,  and  uniformly  acts  the 
part  which  he  thinks  to  be  right,  without  any  view  to  the 
pleasure  and  self-satisfaction  which  may  arise  from  it. 

The  idea  of  self,  as  it  is  not  adapted  to  gratify  any  of 
our  appetites  and  can  contribute  nothing  towards  their  gratifi- 
cation, can  only  occasion  anxiety,  fear,  and  distrust  about 
our  happiness,  when  it  is  frequently  the  subject  of  our 
thoughts.  The  apprehension  and  dread  of  misery  (which  is 
certainly  the  occasion  of  most  of  the  real  trouble  and  misery 
of  man  in  this  life)  is  beyond  measure  increased  from  this 
source ;  and  the  effects  of  it  are  most  sensibly  felt  both  in 
the  lesser  and  greater  scenes  of  our  lives. 

It  is  chiefly  an  anxious  solicitude  about  ourselves,  and 
the  appearance  we  shall  make  in  the  eyes  of  others,  which 
is  the  cause  of  that  affectation  and  constraint  in  behaviour 
which  is  so  troublesome  to  a  person's  self,  and  so  ridiculous 
in  the  eyes  of  others.  This  trifling  remark,  being  so  fre- 
quently verified,  may  serve  to  show  that  these  sentiments  are 
by  no  means  merely  speculative ;  but  that  they  enter  into 
the  daily  scenes  of  active  life.  Indeed  they  are  in  the  high- 
est sense  practical,  and  upon  them  depend  those  maxims  of 
conduct  which  contain  the  great  secret  of  human  happiness, 
and  which  are  confirmed  by  every  day's  experience. 

That  the  idea  of  self,  frequently  occurring  to  our  minds  in 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  13 

our  pursuit  of  happiness,  is  often  a  real  and  great  obstruction 
to  it,  will  be  more  obvious  from  a  short  series  of  plain  facts 
and  examples,  which  I  shall  therefore  mention. 

Why  are  brute  creatures,  in  general,  so  contented  and 
happy  in  their  low  sphere  of  life,  and  much  more  so  than  the 
mind  of  man  could  be  in  their  situation  1  Is  it  not  because 
their  views  are  perpetually  fixed  upon  some  object  within  their 
reach,  adapted  to  their  desires;  and  that  the  abstract  idea 
of  self,  together  with  the  notion  of  their  being  in  the  pursuit 
of  happiness,  and  liable  to  be  disappointed  in  that  pursuit, 
never  comes  in  their  way  to  interrupt  the  uniform  and 
pleasurable  exertion  of  their  faculties  in  the  pursuit  of  their 
proper  objects? 

The  days  of  our  infancy  are  happy  for  the  same  reason, 
notwithstanding  the  imperfection  of  our  faculties,  and  the 
greater  proportion  of  pains  and  disorders  we  are  then  liable 
to.  Those  years  of  our  lives  slide  away  in  unmixed  enjoy- 
ment, except  when  they  are  interrupted  by  the  actual  sensa- 
tions of  pain  ;  for  we  are  then  incapable  of  suifering  any 
thing  from  the  fear  of  evil.  It  is  not  till  after  a  considerable 
time  that  we  get  the  abstract  idea  of  self;  an  idea  which  the 
brutes,  probably,  never  arrive  at,  and  which  is  of  excellent 
use  to  us,  as  will  be  shown  in  its  proper  place,  in  our  pursuit 
of  happiness ;  but  is  often  abused  to  the  great  increase  of  our 
misery,  as  will  appear  by  the  facts  we  are  now  considering. 

Why  are  persons,  whose  situation  in  life  obliges  them  to 
constant  labor  either  of  body  or  mind,  generally  more  happy 
than  those  whose  circumstances  do  not  lay  them  under  a  ne- 
cessity to  labor,  and  whose  own  inclination  does  not  lead 
them  to  it ;  but  because  the  former  have  their  thoughts  con- 
stantly employed  in  the  pursuit  of  some  end,  which  keeps 
their  faculties  awake  and  fully  exerted  1  And  this  is  always 
attended  with  a  state  of  vigorous,  and  consequently  pleasur- 
able, sensations.  Persons  thus  employed  have  not  much 
leisure  to  attend  to  the  idea  of  self,  and  that  anxiety  which 
always  attends  the  frequent  recurring  of  it ;  whereas,  a  per- 


14  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

son  who  has  no  object  foreign  to  himself,  which  constantly 
and  necessarily  engages  his  attention,  cannot  have  his  facul- 
ties fully  exerted  ;  and  therefore  his  mind  cannot  possibly  be 
in  that  state  of  vigorous  sensation  in  which  happiness  consists. 
The  mind  of  such  a  person,  having  nothing  without  him 
sufficient  to  engage  its  attention,  turns  upon  itself.  He  feels 
he  is  not  happy,  but  he  sees  not  the  reason  of  it.  This  again 
excites  his  wonder,  vexation,  and  perplexity.  He  tries  new 
expedients :  but  as  these  are  only  temporary,  and  generally 
whimsical  choices,  none  of  them  have  sufficient  power'to  fix 
and  confine  his  attention.  He  is  still  perpetually  thinking 
about  himself,  and  wondering  and  uneasy  that  he  is  not 
happy.  This  anxious,  perplexed  state  of  mind,  affecting  the 
nervous  system,  necessarily  occasions  a  more  irritable  state  of 
the  nerves  and  of  the  brain,  which  makes  the  unhappy  per- 
son subject  to  more  frequent  alarms,  to  greater  anxiety  and 
distress,  than  before ;  till,  these  mental  and  bodily  disorders 
mutually  increasing  one  another,  his  condition  is  at  length 
the  most  wretched  and  distressing  that  can  be  conceived. 
No  bodily  pain,  no  rack,  no  torture,  can  equal  the  misery  and 
distress  of  a  human  being  whose  mind  is  thus  a  prey  to  itself. 
No  wonder  that,  in  this  situation,  many  persons  wish  the  utter 
extinction  of  their  being,  and  often  put  a  period  to  their  lives. 

This  is  certainly  the  most  deplorable  situation  to  which  a 
human  being  can  be  reduced  in  this  world,  and  is  doubly  the 
object  of  our  compassion,  when  the  disorder  has  its  seat  origi- 
nally in  the  body,  in  such  a  manner  as  that  no  endeavours  to 
engage  a  man's  thoughts  upon  other  objects  can  force  his  at- 
tention from  himself 

It  is  no  wonder  that  we  see  more  of  this  kind  of  unhappi- 
ness  in  the  higher  ranks  of  life,  and  among  persons  who  are 
in  what  is  called  easy  circumstances,  than  in  any  other. 
Indeed,  the  case  is  hardly  possible  in  any  other  than  in  easy 
circumstances  ;  for,  did  a  man's  circumstances  really  find 
constant  employment  for  his  thoughts,  were  his  business  so 
urgent  as  to  leave  him  no  leisure  for  suspense  and  uncer- 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  15 

tainty  what  to  do,  it  is  plain,  from  the  preceding  principles, 
that  such  anxiety  and  distress  could  not  take  place.  It  is 
well  known  that  the  mind  suffers  more  in  a  state  of  uncer- 
tainty and  suspense,  for  want  of  some  motive  to  determine  a 
man's  choice,  than  he  can  suffer  in  the  vigorous  prosecution 
of  the  most  arduous  undertaking.  I  appeal  to  men  of  leisure, 
and  particularly  to  persons  who  are  naturally  of  an  active  and 
enterprising  disposition,  for  the  truth  of  this  fact. 

These  principles  likewise,  as  is  evident  without  entering 
into  a  detail  of  particulars,  furnish  us  with  a  good  reason 
why  we  generally  see  fathers  and  mothers  of  large  families 
infinitely  more  easy,  cheerful,  and  happy  than  those  persons 
who  have  no  family  connexions.  The  greater  affluence,  ease, 
and  variety  of  pleasures  which  these  can  command,  (subject 
to  the  inconveniences  I  have  mentioned,  and  which  are  com- 
monly visible  enough  in  the  case  I  refer  to,)  are  a  poor  equi- 
valent for  the  necessary,  constant,  and  vigorous  exertion  of 
their  faculties,  and,  consequently,  the  strong  sensations  and 
lively  enjoyments  which  a  variety  of  family  cares,  conjugal 
and  parental  tenderness,  supply  for  the  others. 

This  would  be  the  case  universally,  where  large  families 
could  subsist,  if  the  parents  had  sufficient  employment,  and 
if  an  early-acquired  taste  for  superfluities  had  not  taken  too 
deep  root  in  their  minds. 

Happy  is  it  for  the  world,  and  a  great  mark  of  the  wisdom 
and  goodness  of  Divine  Providence,  that  men's  minds  are  so 
constituted,  that  tliough  they  be  in  easy  circumstances,  they 
are  never  completely  satisfied.  The  passions  of  most  men 
are  still  engaging  them  in  a  variety  of  pursuits,  in  which 
they  are  as  eager,  and  which  they  prosecute  with  as  much 
alacrity  and  earnestness,  as  if  necessity  compelled  them  to 
it ;  otherwise,  every  person  who  could  live  easy  would  be 
inevitably  miserable. 

Infinitely  happier  would  it  be  for  themselves,  and  for  the 
world,  if  all  their  pursuits  were  such  as  would  give  them 
satisfaction  upon  the  reflection  as  well  as  in  the  pursuit,  and 


16  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

be  of  real  advantage  to  the  rest  of  mankind  ;  which  two  cir- 
cumstances never  fail  to  coincide.  However,  with  regard  to 
a  person's  self  in  this  life,  any  end  is  unspeakably  better  than 
no  end  at  all  ;  and  such  is  the  wise  appointment  of  Provi- 
dence, that  bad  ends  tend  in  a  variety  of  ways  to  check  and 
defeat  themselves,  and  to  throw  the  minds  of  men  into  better, 
nobler,  and  more  satisfactory  pursuits  ;  a  consideration  which 
cannot  fail  to  suggest,  to  a  benevolent  and  pious  mind,  a 
prospect  of  a  future  happy  and  glorious  state  of  things. 

It  may  be  said,  that  if  happiness  consist  in  or  depend 
upon  the  exertion  of  our  faculties  upon  some  object  foreign 
to  ourselves,  it  is  a  matter  of  indifference  what  the  object  be. 
I  answer,  that  during  the  pursuit  it  is  nearly  so,  and  univer- 
sal experience,  I  imagine,  will  justify  the  observation.  This 
is  the  reason  why  we  see  men  equally  eager,  and  equally 
happy  in  the  pursuit  of  a  variety  of  things  which  appear 
trifling  to  one  another.  Thus  the  florist,  the  medalist,  the 
critic,  the  antiquary,  and  every  adept  in  the  minuter  branches 
of  science,  all  enjoy  equal  happiness  in  the  pursuit  of  their 
several  objects;  and  as  much  as  the  historian,  the  astronomer, 
the  moralist,  or  the  divine,  who  refers  his  nobler  studies  to  no 
higher  end,  and  to  whom  they  only  serve  as  an  exercise  of  his 
faculties. 

But  though  an  eager  pursuit  tends  to  keep  the  mind  in  a 
state  of  vigorous  and  lively  sensation,  that  pursuit  only  can 
give  us  the  maximum,  the  highest  possible  degree  of  happi- 
ness, which  has  the  following  characters :  It  must  be  at- 
tended with  the  probability  of  success,  consequently  it  must 
be  generally  successful ;  and  it  must  also  terminate  in  such 
gratifications  as  are  least  inconsistent  with  themselves,  or 
with  the  other  gratifications  of  which  our  nature  makes 
us  capable.  And  it  may  be  demonstrated  (though  I  shall  not 
undertake  to  do  it  particularly  in  this  place)  that  no  pursuits 
answer  to  this  description  but  those  in  which  the  love  of 
mankind,  the  love  of  God,  or  the  dictates  of  conscience, 
engage  us. 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING   TO    OURSELVES.  17 

For  in  all  other  pursuits,  such  as  those  of  sensual  pleasure, 
the  pleasures  of  imagination  and  ambition,  we  are  liable  to 
frequent  disappointments ;  the  gratifications  in  which  they 
terminate  are  inconsistent  with  themselves,  and  with  each 
other;  and  they  almost  entirely  deaden  and  disqualify  the 
mind  for  the  nobler  pleasures  of  our  nature.  It  is  the  love 
of  God,  the  love  of  mankind,  and  a  sense  of  duty,  which  en- 
gage the  minds  of  men  in  the  noblest  of  all  pursuits.  By 
these  we  are  carried  on  with  increasing  alacrity  and  satisfac- 
tion. Even  the  pains  and  distresses  in  which  we  involve 
ourselves  by  these  courses  are  preferable  to  the  pleasures  at- 
tending the  gratification  of  our  lower  appetites. 

Besides,  these  noble  pursuits,  generally  at  least,  allow  us 
even  more  of  the  lower  gratifications  of  our  nature  than  can 
be  obtained  by  a  direct  pursuit  of  them ;  for  a  little  expe- 
rience will  inform  us,  that  we  receive  the  most  pleasure  from 
these  lower  appetites  of  our  nature,  as  well  as  from  the  high- 
est sources  of  pleasure  we  are  capable  of,  when  we  have  their 
gratification  least  of  all  in  view.  There  can  be  no  doubt, 
for  instance,  but  that  the  laborer  who  eats  and  drinks  merely 
to  satisfy  the  calls  of  hunger  and  thirst,  has  vastly  more  pleas- 
ure in  eating  and  drinking,  than  the  epicure  who  studies  the 
pleasing  of  his  palate. 

They  are  the  pleasures  of  benevolence  and  piety  which 
most  effectually  carry  us  out  of  ourselves ;  whereas  every 
other  inferior  pursuit  suggests  to  us,  in  a  thousand  respects, 
the  idea  of  self,  the  unseasonable  intervention  of  which  may 
be  called  the  worm  which  lies  at  the  root  of  all  human  bliss. 
And  never  can  we  be  completely  happy  till  we  "  love  the  Lord 
our  God  with  all  our  heart,  with  all  our  soul,  with  all  our 
strength,  and  our  neighbour  as  ourselves." 

This  is  the  Christian  self-annihilation,  and  a  state  of  the 
most  complete  happiness  to  which  our  natures  can  attain : 
when,  without  having  the  least  idea  of  being  in  the  pursuit 
of  our  own  happiness,  our  faculties  are  wholly  absorbed  in 
those  noble  and  exalted  pursuits  in  which  we  are  sure  not 


18  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELyES. 

to  be  finally  disappointed,  and  in  the  course  of  which  we 
enjoy  all  the  consistent  pleasures  of  our  whole  nature.  When 
rejoicing  with  all  that  rejoice,  weeping  with  all  that  weep, 
and  intimately  associating  the  idea  of  God,  the  Maker  of  all 
things,  our  father  and  our  friend,  with  all  the  works  of  his 
hands,  and  all  the  dispensations  of  his  providence,  we  con- 
stantly triumph  in  the  comfortable  sense  of  the  Divine  pres- 
ence and  approbation,  and  in  the  transporting  prospect  of 
advancing  every  day  nearer  to  the  accomplishment  of  his 
glorious  purposes  for  the  liappiness  of  liis  creatures. 

If  this  be  the  proper  and  supreme  happiness  of  man,  it 
may  be  asked  of  what  use  is  the  principle  of  self-interest  ?  I 
answer,  that  though  an  attention  to  it  be  inconsistent  with 
pure,  unmixed  happiness,  yet  a  moderate  attention  to  it  is  of 
excellent  use  in  our  progress  towards  it.  It  serves  as  a  scaf- 
fold to  a  noble  and  glorious  edifice,  though  it  be  unworthy  of 
standing  as  any  part  of  it.  It  is  of  more  particular  use  to 
check  and  restrain  the  indulgence  of  our  lower  appetites  and 
passions,  before  other  objects  and  motives  have  acquired  a 
sufficient  power  over  us.  But  though  we  ought,  therefore,  to 
exhort  those  persons  who  are  immersed  in  sensuality  and  gross 
vices,  to  abandon  those  indulgencies  out  of  a  regard  to  their 
true  interest,  it  is  advisable  to  withdraw  this  motive  by  de- 
grees. However,  as  we  shall  never  arrive  at  absolute  perfec- 
tion, we  necessarily  must,  and  indeed  ought  to  be  influenced 
by  it,  more  or  less,  through  the  whole  course  of  our  existence, 
only  less  and  less  perpetually. 

The  principle  of  self-interest  may  be  regarded  as  a  medium 
between  the  lower  and  the  higher  principles  of  our  nature, 
and,  therefore,  of  principal  use  in  our  transition,  as  we  may 
call  it,  from  an  imperfect  to  a  more  perfect  state. 

Perhaps  the  following  view  of  this  subject  may  be  the 
easiest  to  us  :  A  regard  to  our  greatest  happiness  must  ne- 
cessarily govern  our  conduct  with  respect  to  all  those  virtues 
which  are  termed  private  virtues,  as  temperance,  chastity, 
and  every  branch  of  self-government;  but   it   always   does 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  19 

harm  as  a  motive  to  the  social  virtues.  When,  therefore, 
self-government,  which  is  our  first  step  towards  happiness, 
is  established,  we  ought  to  endeavour  to  excite  men  to  ac- 
tion by  higher  and  nobler  motives ;  for,  with  regard  to  all 
those  virtues,  the  ultimate  object  of  which  is  not  private  hap- 
piness, an  attention  to  self-interest  is  of  manifest  prejudice 
to  us,  and  this  through  the  whole  course  of  our  lives,  imper- 
fect as  we  are,  and  as  much  occasion  as  we  have  for  every 
effectual  motive  to  virtue. 

We  are  now  come,  in  the  last  place,  to  see  what  considera- 
tions, drawn  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  will  farther  confirm 
and  illustrate  this  maxim  of  human  conduct,  which  was  first 
suggested  by  them. 

That  the  Scriptures  join  the  voice  of  all  nature  around  us, 
informing  man  that  he  is  not  made  for  himself;  that  they  in- 
culcate the  same  lesson  which  we  learn  both  from  a  view  of 
the  external  circumstances  of  mankind,  and  also  from  a 
nearer  inspection  of  the  principles  of  human  nature  ;  will  be 
evident,  whether  we  consider  the  object  of  the  religion  they 
exhibit,  (that  is,  the  temper  to  which  we  are  intended  to  be 
formed  by  it,)  or  the  motives  by  which  it  is  enforced  and  re- 
commended to  us  in  them. 

That  the  end  and  design  of  our  holy  religion.  Christians, 
was  to  form  us  to  the  most  disinterested  benevolence,  cannot 
be  doubted  by  any  person  who  consults  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
and  especially  the  books  of  the  New  Testament. 

There  we  plainly  see  the  principle  of  benevolence  repre- 
sented, when  it  is  in  its  due  strength  and  degree,  as  equal  in 
point  of  intenseness  to  that  of  self-love.  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbour  as  thyself"  The  plain  consequence  of  this  is,  that 
if  all  our  brethren  of  mankind  with  whom  we  are  connected, 
have  an  equal  claim  upon  us,  (since  our  connexions  are  daily 
growing  more  extensive,  and  we  ourselves  are,  consequently, 
growing  daily  of  less  relative  importance  in  our  own  eyes,) 
the  principle  of  benevolence  must,  in  the  end,  absolutely 
swallow  up  that  of  self-love. 


20  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

The  most  exalted  devotion,  as  even  superior  both  to  self- 
love  and  benevolence,  is  always  every  where  reconunended 
to  us  :  and  the  sentiments  of  devotion  have  been  shown  greatly 
to  aid,  and,  in  fact,  to  be  the  same  with  those  of  benevolence  ; 
and  they  must  be  so,  unless  it  can  be  shown  that  we  have 
some  senses,  powers,  or  faculties,  which  respect  the  Deity  only. 

In  order  to  determine  men  to  engage  in  a  course  of  dis- 
interested and  generous  actions,  every  motive  which  is  calcu- 
lated to  work  upon  human  nature  is  employed.  And  as 
mankind  in  general  are  deeply  immersed  in  vice  and  folly, 
their  hopes,  but  more  especially  their  fears,  are  acted  upon 
in  the  strongest  manner  by  tlie  prospect  of  rewards  and  pun- 
ishments. Even  temporal  rewards  and  punishments  were 
proposed  to  mankind  in  the  earlier  and  ruder  ages  of  the 
world.  But  as  our  notions  of  happiness  grow  more  enlarged, 
infinitely  greater,  but  indefinite  objects  of  hope  and  fear  are 
set  before  us.  Something  unknown,  but  something  un- 
speakably dreadful  in  a  future  world  is  perpetually  held  up  to 
us,  as  a  guard  against  the  allurements  to  vice  and  excess 
which  the  world  abounds  with ;  and  still  farther  to  counteract 
their  baleful  influences,  the  heavenly  world  (the  habitation  of 
good  men  after  death)  is  represented  to  us  as  a  place  in 
which  we  shall  be  completely  happy,  enjoying  something 
which  is  described  as  more  than  eye  hath  seen,  ear  heard, 
or  than  the  heart  of  man  can  conceive. 

These  motives  are  certahily  addressed  to  the  principle  of 
self-interest,  urging  us  out  of  a  regard  to  ourselves  and  our 
general  happiness,  "  to  cease  to  do  evil,  and  learn  to  do  well." 
And,  indeed,  no  motives  of  a  more  generous  nature,  and 
drawn  from  more  distant  considerations,  can  be  supposed 
sufficient  to  influence  the  bulk  of  mankind,  and  "  bring  them 
from  the  power  of  sin  and  Satan  unto  God." 

But  when,  by  the  influence  of  these  motives,  it  may  be 
supposed  that  mankind  are  in  some  measure  recovered  from 
the  grosser  pollutions  of  the  world,  and  the  principle  of  self- 
interest  has  been  played,  as  it  were,  against  itself,  and  beeu 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  21 

a  means  of  engaging  us  in  a  course  and  habit  of  actions 
which  are  necessarily  connected  with,  and  productive  of, 
more  generous  and  noble  principles,  then  these  nobler  prin- 
ciples are  those  which  the  sacred  writers  chiefly  inculcate. 

Nothing  is  more  frequent  with  the  sacred  writers  than  to 
exhort  men  to  the  practice  of  their  duty  as  the  command  of 
God,  from  a  principle  of  love  to  God,  of  love  to  Christ,  and 
of  love  to  mankind,  more  especially  of  our  fellow-Christians, 
and  from  a  regard  to  the  interest  of  our  holy  religion  ;  mo- 
tives which  do  not  at  all  turn  the  attention  of  our  minds 
upon  themselves.  This  is  not  borrowing  the  aid  of  self-love 
to  strengthen  the  principles  of  benevolence  and  piety,  but  it 
is  properly  deriving  additional  strength  to  these  noble  disposi- 
tions, as  it  were,  from  within  themselves,  independent  of 
foreign  considerations. 

We  may  safely  say,  that  no  degree  or  kind  of  self-love  is 
made  use  of  in  the  Scriptures  but  what  is  necessary  to  raise 
us  above  that  principle.  And  some  of  the  more  refined  kinds 
of  self-love,  how  familiar  soever  they  may  be  in  some  sys- 
tems of  morals,  never  come  in  sight  there.  We  are  never 
exhorted  in  the  Scriptures  to  do  benevolent  actions  for  the 
sake  of  the  reflex  pleasures  of  benevolence,  or  pious  actions 
with  a  view  to  the  pleasures  of  devotion.  This  refined  kind 
of  self-love  is  nowhere  to  be  found  in  the  Scriptures. 

Even  the  pleasures  of  a  good  conscience,  —  though  they  be 
of  a  more  general  nature,  and  there  be  less  refinement  in 
them  than  in  some  other  pleasures  which  are  connected 
with  the  idea  of  self,  and  though  they  be  represented  in  the 
Scriptures  as  the  consequence  of  good  actions,  and  a  source 
of  joy,  as  a  testimony  of  a  person's  being  in  the  favor  of 
God,  and  in  the  way  to  happiness,  —  are  perhaps  never  di- 
rectly proposed  to  us  as  the  reward  of  virtue.  This  motive 
to  virtue  makes  a  greater  figure  in  the  system  of  the  later 
Stoics  (those  heathen  philosophers  who,  in  consequence  of 
entertaining  the  most  extravagant  idea  of  their  own  merit, 
really   idolized   their   own    natures   to    a  degree    absolutely 


22  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

blasphemous)  than  m  the  Scriptures.  And  if  we  consider 
the  nature  of  this  principle,  we  shall  soon  be  sensible  that  if 
it  be  inculcated  as  a  motive  to  virtue,  and  particularly  the 
virtues  of  a  sublimer  kind,  it  should  be  with  great  caution, 
and  in  such  a  manner  as  shall  have  the  least  tendency  to 
encourage  self-applause ;  for  does  not  self-applause  border 
very  nearly  upon  pride  and  self-conceit,  and  that  species  of 
it  which  is  called  spiritual  pride,  and  which  is  certainly  a 
most  malignant  disposition  ? 

If  this  same  principle  have  power  to  excite  such  ridicu- 
lous vanity,  intolerable  arrogance,  inveterate  rancour,  and 
supercilious  contempt  of  others,  when  it  has  nothing  but 
the  trifling  advantage  of  skill  in  criticism,  a  talent  for  poetry, 
a  taste  for  belles  lettres,  or  some  other  of  the  minuter  parts 
of  science  to  avail  itself  of ;  what  have  we  not  to  dread  from 
it,  when  it  can  boast  of  what  is  universally  acknowledged  to 
be  a  far  superior  kind  of  excellence  ? 

To  guard  against  this  dangerous  rock,  so  fatal  to  every 
genuine  principle  of  virtue,  the  utmost  humility,  self-diffi- 
dence, and  trust  in  God,  are  ever  recommended  to  us  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  Good  men  are  taught  to  regard  him  as 
the  giver  of  every  good  and  every  perfect  gift.  They  are 
represented  as  disclaiming  all  the  merit  of  their  own  good 
works,  and  expecting  all  favor  and  happiness,  private  or 
public,  from  the  free  goodness  and  undeserved  mercy  of 
God.  When  we  have  done  all  that  is  commanded  us,  we 
must  say  we  are  unprofitable  servants ;  we  have  done  only 
that  which  it  was  our  duty  to  do. 

In  the  representation  which  our  Saviour  has  given  us  of 
the  proceedings  of  the  last  great  day  of  judgment,  it  is  in 
this  respect  that  the  temper  of  the  righteous  is  contrasted 
with  that  of  the  wicked  ;  though  that  was  not  the  principal 
design  of  the  representation.  The  righteous  seem  surprised 
at  the  favorable  opinion  which  their  Judge  expresses  of  them, 
and  absolutely  disclaim  all  the  good  works  which  he  ascribes 
to  them.     "  When  saw  we  thee,"   say  they,  "an  hungered, 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  23 

and  fed  thee ;  or  thirsty,  and  gave  thee  drink  ;  vi'hen  saw 
we  thee  a  stranger,  and  took  thee  in,  or  naked,  and  clothed 
thee ;  or  when  saw  we  thee  sick  and  in  prison,  and  came 
unto  thee?"  Whereas  the  wicked  are  represented  as  equally 
surprised  at  the  censure  our  Lord  passes  upon  them,  and 
insist  upon  their  innocence,  saying,  "When  saw  we  thee  an 
hungered,  or  athirst,  or  a  stranger,  or  naked,  or  sick,  or  in 
prison,  and  did  not  minister  unto  thee  ?  " 

This,  too,  is  the  excellent  moral  conveyed  to  us  in  the 
parable  of  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican,  and  the  import  of 
one  of  the  blessings  which  our  Lord  pronounced  in  a  solemn 
manner  at  the  beginning  of  his  ministry  on  earth,  "  Blessed 
are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  " 
and  also  the  spirit  of  many  of  our  Lord's  invectives  against 
the  pride  and  hypocrisy  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees. 

No  other  vice  seems  capable  of  disturbing  the  equal  and 
generous  temper  of  our  Lord.  Other  vices  rather  excite  his 
compassion ;  but  pride,  together  with  its  usual  attendant, 
hypocrisy,  never  fails  to  rouse  his  most  vehement  indigna- 
tion :  insomuch,  that  before  we  attend  to  the  heinous  nature 
and  dreadful  consequences  of  those  vices,  we  are  apt  rather 
to  blame  our  Lord  for  intemperate  wrath  upon  these  occa- 
sions, and  to  wonder  why  a  person,  who  otherwise  appears  to 
be  so  meek,  should,  in  this  case  only,  be  so  highly  provoked. 

How  severely  doth  he  check  the  least  tendency  towards 
pride  and  ambition  in  his  own  disciples,  whenever  he  dis- 
covers in  any  of  them  a  disposition  to  aspire  to  distinction 
and  superiority  ;  closing  his  admonition,  on  one  remarkable 
occasion,  with  these  words,  which  are  characteristic  of  the 
temper  of  his  religion  :  "  He  that  is  greatest  among  you 
shall  be  your  servant.  Whosoever  shall  exalt  himself  shall 
be  abased,  and  he  that  shall  humble  himself  shall  be  exalted." 

What  temper  can  be  supposed  more  proper  to"  qualify  us 
for  joining  the  glorious  assembly  of  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,  and  perhaps  innumerable  orders  of  beings  far 
superior  to  us,  both  in   understanding   and  goodness,  when 


24  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

all  the  splendor  of  the  invisible  world  shall  be  thrown  open 
to  us,  but  a  spirit  of  the  deepest  humility,  and  the  purest 
benevolence  ?  This  alone  can  dispose  us  truly  to  rejoice  in 
the  view  of  every  kind  and  degree  of  excellence,  wherever 
found,  without  the  least  uneasiness  arising  from  pride,  envy, 
jealousy,  or  dislike ;  all  which  vicious  qualities  of  the  mind 
are  nearly  connected  together.  And  how  can  a  spirit  of 
true  humility  and  pure  benevolence,  which  cannot  exist 
without  humility,  be  attained,  if  our  regards  be  perpetually, 
or  frequently,  directed  to  ourselves?  Where  self  is  con- 
sidered, pride,  vanity,  or  self-conceit,  with  all  their  hateful 
consequences,  seem,  in  some  degree,  to  be  unavoidable. 

Whoever,  therefore,  lays  the  foundation  of  human  virtue 
on  the  principle  of  self-interest,  or,  what  is  nearly  the  same 
thing,  self-applause,  is  erecting  a  fabric  which  can  never 
rest  on  such  supports;  and  he  will  be  found,  in  fact,  to  have 
been  pulling  down  with  one  hand  what  he  was  endeavouring 
to  build  up  with  the  other. 

To  draw  to  a  conclusion.  This  doctrine  abounds  with  the 
noblest  practical  uses,  and  points  out  directly  the  great  rule 
of  life  and  source  of  happiness;  which  is  to  give  ourselves 
wholly  up  to  some  employment,  which  may,  if  possible, 
engage  all  our  faculties,  and  which  tends  to  the  good  of  so- 
ciety. This  is  a  field  which  is  open  to  the  exertion  of  all 
human  powers,  and  in  which  all  mankind  may  be  equally, 
mutually,  and  boundlessly  happy. 

This  will  render  all  expedients  to  kill  time,  unnecessary. 
With  our  affections  and  our  faculties  thus  engrossed  by  a 
worthy  object,  we  scarce  need  fear  being  ever  dull,  pensive, 
or  melancholy,  or  know  what  it  is  to  have  our  time  hang 
heavy  upon  our  hands.  And  I  think  I  may  so  for  presume 
upon  the  known  connexion  of  mind  and  body,  as  to  say  that 
this  is  the  best  preservative  against  hypochondriacal  disorders, 
to  which  persons  whose  situation  in  the  world  doth  not  lead 
them  into  the  active  scenes  of  life,  are  peculiarly  subject. 
Every  day  passed  in  the  steady  and  earnest  discharge  of  a 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  25 

man's  known  duty,  will  pass  with  uniform  cheerfulness  and 
alacrity.  And  in  the  glorious,  animating  prospect  of  a  future 
happy  state  of  mankind,  on  which,  in  a  humble  trust  and 
confidence  in  the  assistance  and  grace  of  God,  he  has  spent 
all  his  cares  and  exerted  all  his  powers,  that  joy  w^ill  spring 
up  in  his  heart  here,  which  will  hereafter  be  "  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory." 

If  troubles  and  persecutions  arise  on  account  of  our  ad- 
hering to  our  duty ;  if  we  be  opposed  in  the  prosecution  of 
laudable  undertakings,  or  suffer  in  consequence  of  under- 
taking them ;  the  true  piety  of  a  person  who  habitually 
lives  to  God,  and  not  to  himself,  is  capable  of  converting 
them  all  into  pure,  unmixed  joy  and  transport.  Then  the 
human  mind,  roused  to  the  most  intense  exertion  of  all  its 
faculties,  burdened  with  no  consciousness  of  guilt,  referring 
itself  absolutely  to  the  disposal  of  its  God  and  Father,  dis- 
trusting its  own  powers,  and  confiding  in  the  infinite  power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness  of  God,  —  acquires  a  fervor  of  spirit,  a 
courage,  fortitude,  and  magnanimity,  tempered  w'ith  the  most 
perfect  serenity,  and  the  greatest  presence  of  mind,  that  is 
sufficient,  and  more  than  sufficient,  to  bear  a  man  through 
every  difficulty,  and  even  to  convert  all  pain  into  pleasure. 
His  highly  agitated  state  of  mind,  in  those  trying  circum- 
stances, is  almost  pure  rapture  and  ecstasy. 

In  those  circumstances,  which  appear  so  distressing,  num- 
bers, I  doubt  not,  have  been  able,  according  to  our  blessed 
Saviour's  direction,  to  "  rejoice  and  be  exceeding  glad,  know- 
ing that  their  reward  was  great  in  heaven  "  ;  and  have  expe- 
rienced more  real  comfort,  peace  of  mind,  and  inward  joy,  in 
the  greatest  adversity,  than  they  had  ever  felt  in  the  days  of 
their  prosperity.  Yea,  what  is  related  by  historians  of  some 
Christian  and  Protestant  martyrs  appears  to  me  not  incredi- 
ble ;  namely,  that  in  the  midst  of  flames  they  have  felt  no 
pain.  Their  minds  were  so  intensely  agitated,  and  so  wholly 
occupied  with  opposite  sensations  of  the  most  exalted  nature, 
as  to  exclude  all  external  sensation  whatever,  vastly  more 


26  THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES. 

than  we  can  form  any  idea  of  from  the   trances  and  reveries 
which  any  person  was  ever  subject  to. 

What  the  extraordinary  exercises  of  devotion  are  able  to 
do  upon  extraordinary  occasions,  the  habitual,  moderate 
exercise  of  piety,  will  be  able  to  do  in  the  ordinary  course 
and  the  common  troubles  of  our  lives ;  so  that  it  may  not 
only  be  compared  to  a  strong  cordial,  to  be  applied  Avhen 
the  mind  is  ready  to  faint  under  adversity,  but  to  that  food 
which  is  the  daily  support  of  our  lives. 

To  have  God  alioays  in  our  thoughts  is  not  possible  in  this 
world.  Present  objects,  to  the  influence  of  which  we  are 
continually  exposed,  must  necessarily  engage  a  great  part  of 
our  attention ;  and  worldly  objects,  by  continually  engrossing 
our  thoughts,  are  apt  to  become  of  too  great  importance  to  us. 
We  grow  anxious  about  them,  and  our  minds  are  harassed 
and  fatigued  with  a  constant  and  close  attention  to  them. 
Now  it  is  when  the  mind  is  in  this  state,  or  rather  tending 
towards  it,  that  the  benign  influences  of  devotion  are,  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  our  lives,  the  most  sensibly  felt  ;  when  the 
mind,  looking  off",  and  above  all  worldly  objects,  and  deeply 
impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  infinite  power,  wisdom,  and 
goodness  of  God,  unburdens  itself  of  every  anxiety,  and  casts 
all  its  cares  upon  its  heavenly  Father ;  and  when  the  preced- 
ing tumult  and  disorder  in  the  passions,  only  serve  to  aug- 
ment that  unspeakable  joy,  satisfaction,  and  confidence,  with 
which  a  deep  sense  of  the  presence  and  providence  of  God 
inspires  the  soul. 

The  relief  a  benevolent  mind  feels  from  communicating 
its  troubles  and  cares  to  an  intimate  friend,  in  whose  wisdom 
and  integrity  he  can  confide,  though  of  the  same  nature,  is 
but  a  faint  image  of  what  the  truly  pious  soul  feels  in  the 
delightful  seasons  of  the  devout  intercourse  which  he  main- 
tains with  his  God. 

This  is  a  perpetual  source  of  joy  and  satisfaction  to  a  truly 
devout  mind,  which  the  wicked,  those  persons  who  live  to 
themselves  and  not  to  mankind  or  to  God,  intermeddle  not 


THE    DUTY    OF    NOT    LIVING    TO    OURSELVES.  27 

with.  Not  even  an  idea  of  that  sweet  tranquillity,  exalted 
joy,  and  calm  fortitude  which  true  devotion  inspires,  can  be 
communicated  to  another  who  hath  had  no  experience  of  it 
himself.  This  is  truly  of  those  things  which  St.  Paul  says 
"the  natural  man"  cannot  comprehend,  and  that  "they  are 
foolishne-ss  to  him,  because  they  are  spiritually  discerned." 

I  would  be  no  advocate  for  enthusiasm.  The  fervor  of 
devotion  cannot  always  be  kept  up.  That  is  inconsistent 
with  the  condition  of  our  nature,  and  far  from  being  neces- 
sary in  our  present  state  :  but  that  cheerful  serenity  and 
composure  in  which  moderate  acts  of  devotion  leave  the  mind, 
is  an  excellent  temper  for  entering  upon,  and  persevering 
with  spirit  and  alacrity  in,  any  useful  and  honorable  under- 
taking. 

The  sum  of  this  practical  doctrine,  suggested  by  revela- 
tion and  confirmed  by  reason  and  observation,  is,  that  no 
man  can  be  happy  who  lives  to  himself;  but  that  true  happi- 
ness consists  in  having  our  faculties  wholly  engrossed  by  some 
worthy  object,  in  the  pursuit  of  which  the  strongest  and  best 
of  our  affections  have  their  full  play,  and  in  which  we  enjoy 
all  the  consistent  pleasures  of  our  whole  nature ;  that  though 
a  regard  to  our  greatest  happiness  be  of  excellent  use,  (par- 
ticularly about  the  beginning  of  our  progress  towards  perfec- 
tion and  happiness,  in  bringing  our  inferior  appetites  and  pas- 
sions into  due  subjection  to  the  superior  powers  of  our  nature,) 
yet  that  self-love,  or  a  regard  to  ourselves,  is  very  apt  to 
grow  too  intense,  and  is,  in  fact,  the  cause  of  a  great  deal  of 
the  useless  anxiety,  perplexity,  and  misery  there  is  in  the 
world,  and  that,  therefore,  it  ought  to  be  our  care,  that  our 
minds  be  engrossed  as  much  as  possible  by  other  objects ; 
and  that  even  motives  to  virtue,  which  turn  our  attention 
frequently  upon  ourselves,  should  be  used  with  caution ;  for 
fear  of  feeding  that  vanity  and  self-conceit,  which  we  ought 
to  study  every  method  of  repressing,  as  the  greatest  bane  of 
true  religion,  being  most  opposite  to  the  genuine  temper  of 
Christianity,  and  the  most  destructive  of  human  happiness. 


THE  DANGER  OF  BAD  HABITS. 


A  SERMON. 


Hosea,  iv.  17. 
Ephraim  is  joined  to  idols.     Let  liim  alone. 

Ephraim  is  here  put  for  the  whole  kingdom  of  Israel,  of 
which  it  was  a  part ;  and  this  awful  sentence  pronounced 
upon  it  was  delivered  during  its  declension,  and  not  long 
before  its  final  dissolution  by  the  kings  of  Assyria. 

Many  prophets  had  God  sent  to  this  unhappy  nation,  and 
by  repeated  messages  had  he  expostulated  with  them,  from 
time  to  time,  for  their  crying  wickedness  and  provocations. 
They  had  had  line  upon  line,  and  precept  upon  precept ;  but 
all  had  been  to  no  purpose.  They  showed  no  sign  of  repen- 
tance, but  "  held  fast  their  iniquity,  and  v/ould  not  let  it  go," 
till  the  Divine  patience  and  forbearance  were  wearied  out. 
Mercy  could  plead  for  them  no  longer  ;  their  fate  was  deter- 
mined ;  and  the  execution  of  the  just  judgments  of  God  upon 
them  was  only  delayed,  but  was  sure  to  take  place  in  the 
end. 

This  is  the  case  of  a  whole  nation  abandoned  of  God  in  this 
fearful  manner.  But  whatever  has  been  the  case  of  one 
nation,  may  not  only  be  tiie  case  of  another  nation,  but  also 
that  of  any  individual ;  and  it  is  the  possibility  of  this  being 
the  case  of  our  own  nation,  or  of  ourselves,  that  it  makes  to 
demand  our  attention.     To  the   Almighty,  with  respect  to 


THE  DANGER  OF  BAD  HABITS.  29 

moral  government,  a  nation  is  as  one  man,  and  one  m'an  as 
a  whole  nation.  He  punishes  vice,  and  he  rewards  virtue, 
in  both  ;  and  whatever  is  agreeable  to  wisdom  and  equity  in 
the  case  of  a  nation,  is  likewise  agreeable  to  wisdom  and 
equity  with  respect  to  individuals.  Supposing,  therefore, 
that  the  cases  are  exactly  similar,  I  shall,  in  discoursing  from 
these  words, 

1.  State  the  case  with  as  much  exactness  as  I  can  ; 

2.  Show  the  probability  and  danger   of  it  with  respect  to 

human  nature;  and, 

3.  Consider  the  equity  and  propriety  of  it  with   respect  to 

to   God,  applying   the   whole   doctrine  to  the  cases  of 
individuals. 

In  the  first  place,  I  am  to  state  this  case  with  as  much 
exactness  as  I  can. 

In  general,  when  any  person  is  in  the  condition  of  Ephraim, 
in  my  text,  so  that  God  shall,  as  it  were,  say  of  him,  "he  is 
joined  to  idols,"  (he  is  joined  to  his  lusts  and  vices,)  "  Let  him 
;  lone,"  his  day  of  trial  and  probation  may  be  said  to  be,  to 
all  important  purposes,  expired.  He  is  no  longer  a  subject 
of  moral  government,  because  he  is  utterly  incapable  of 
amendment,  which  is  the  end  of  all  moral  discipline  ;  and 
though,  through  the  goodness  of  God,  which  is  over  all  his 
works,  he  may  live  many  years  longer,  yet  his  final  doom 
is  in  reality  fixed ;  his  sentence  is  irrevocable,  and  the  exe- 
cution of  it  only  deferred. 

Not  that  the  reformation  of  any  sinner  is  ever  naturally 
impossible,  or  that,  if  he  truly  repent,  he  shall  not  find  favor 
at  the  hand  of  God  :  for  "  nothing  is  impossible  with  God,"  and 
"  a  truly  humble,  penitent,  and  contrite  heart  he  will  never  de- 
spise, whenever,  and  wheresoever  he  finds  it.  But  the  change 
may  be  morally  impossible,  or  not  to  he  e^cpected  according  to 
the  usual  course  of  things ;  and  this  is  sufficient  to  authorize 
us  to  make  use  of  the  language. 

Supposing  a  man  to  have  lived  so  long  in  the  habits  of 
vice,  as  to  have  lost  all  relish  for  every  thing  that  is  good. 


30  THE  DANGER  OF  BAD  HABITS. 

that  he  has  no  pleasure  in  the  company  of  the  sober,  the 
virtuous,  and  the  pious,  but  only  in  that  of  those  who  are-  as 
abandoned  as  himself,  and  that  the  greatest  satisfaction  he 
has  is  in  corrupting  others,  (and  farther  than  this  depravity 
cannot  go;)  supposing  that,  in  the  course  of  his  life,  this 
man,  besides  every  advantage  for  instruction,  had  experienced 
a  great  variety  of  prosperity  and  adversity  ;  and  yet  that  pros- 
perity, instead  of  making  him  more  thankful  and  obedient  to 
God,  made  him  forget  him  the  more  ;  and  that  afflictions,  in- 
stead of  softening  and  bettering  his  heart,  only  served  to  harden 
it  and  make  it  worse.  Do  I  say  that  this  abandoned  wretch 
cannot  be  reformed,  that  God  cannot,  by  any  methods  what- 
ever, work  upon  his  heart,  and  bring  him  to  serious  thought 
and  reflection  ?  By  no  means.  That  would  be  to  limit  the 
power  of  God,  to  whom  all  things  are  possible.  He  can 
work  miracles,  if  he  should  think  proper  so  to  do.  But  then 
I  say  this  would  be  a  proper  miracle,  such  as,  at  this  day, 
we  are  not  authorized  to  expect.  And  judging  by  what  we 
see  actually  to  take  place,  and  what  we  must  conclude  to  be 
just  and  right,  God  may,  and  probably  will,  leave  such  a  one 
to  himself  He  may  determine  to  try  him  no  longer  by  any 
of  those  methods  of  liis  providence  which  are  usually  em- 
ployed for  the  purpose  of  reclaiming  sinners. 

For  instance,  afflictions,  and  especially  bodily  sickness, 
are  a  great  means  of  softening  and  bettering  the  minds  of 
men ;  but  God  may  resolve  that  he  shall  be  visited  with  no 
remarkable  sickness,  till  he  be  overtaken  with  his  last ;  or 
he  may  cut  him  off  by  a  sudden  and  unexpected  death,  in 
the  mid.st  of  his  crimes.  The  death  of  our  friends,  or  any 
calamities  befalling  them,  have  often  been  the  means,  in  the 
hands  of  Divine  Providence,  of  bringing  to  serious  thought 
and  reflection  those  who  have  survived  those  strokes;  but 
God  may  resolve  never  to  touch  him  in  so  tender  a  part,  but 
rather  make  use  of  his  death  as  a  warning  and  example  to 
others. 

Now  when  a  man  is  thus  left  of  God,  and  no  providential 


THE    DANGER    OF    BAD    HABITS.  31 

methods  are  used  to  reclaim  him,  we  may  conclude  that  he  is 
irrecoverably  lost.  It  is,  in  fact,  and  according  to  the  course 
of  nature,  (and  we  know  of  no  deviations  from  it  since  the 
age  of  the  apostles,)  absolutely  impossible  that  he  should 
repent,  or  be  reformed.  And  though  he  should  continue  to 
live  ever  so  long  after  God  has  thus  forsaken  him,  he  is 
only,  in  the  awful  language  of  Scripture,  treasuring  up  "  wrath 
against  the  day  of  wrath  ;  "  and  there  remains  nothing  for 
him  but  "  a  fearful  looking-for  of  judgment,"  and  of  that  "  fiery 
indignation  "  which  shall  consume  the  adversaries  of  God. 

Having  thus  stated  the  nature  of  this  awful  case,  and 
shown  in  what  sense,  and  on  what  account,  it  may  be  said 
that  it  is  quite  desperate  and  hopeless,  viz.  because  it  may 
be  morally  impossible  that  he  should  ever  truly  repent  and 
be  reformed,  by  reason  of  God's  withdrawing  those  provi- 
dential methods  by  which  he  uses  to  work  upon  men's  hearts, 
and  to  bring  them  to  serious  thought  and  reflection  ;    I  come, 

2dly.  To  consider  the  probability  and  danger  of  the  case 
with  respect  to  human  nature  ;  how  far  men  are  liable  to  fall 
into  this  fearful  condition,  and  by  what  means  they  fall  into  it, 

A  man's  case  may  be  pronounced  to  be  thus  desperate, 
when  his  mind  is  brought  into  such  a  state,  as  that  the  neces- 
sary means  of  reformation  shall  have  lost  their  effect  upon 
him ;  and  this  is  the  natural  consequence  of  confirmed  habits 
of  vice,  and  a  long-continued  neglect  of  the  means  of  reli- 
gion and  virtue ;  —  which  is  so  far  from  being  an  impossible 
or  improbable  case,  that  it  is  a  very  general  one. 

In  order  to  be  the  more  sensible  of  this,  you  are  to  con- 
sider that  vice  is  a  habit,  and  therefore  of  a  subtle  and  in- 
sinuating nature.  By  easy,  pleasing,  and  seemingly  harmless 
actions,  men  are  often  betrayed  into  a  progress  which  grows 
every  day  more  alarming.  Our  virtuous  resolutions  we  may 
break  with  difficulty.  It  may  be  with  pain  and  reluctance 
that  we  commit  the  first  acts  of  sin,  but  the  next  are  easier 
to  us ;  and  use,  custom,  and  habit,  will  at  last  reconcile  us 
to  any  thing,  even  things  the  very  idea  of  which  might  at 
first  be  shocking  to  us. 


32  THE    DANGER    OF    BAD    HABITS. 

Vice  is  a  thing  not  to  be  trifled  with.  You  may,  by  the 
force  of  vigorous  resolution,  break  off  in  the  early  stages  of 
it ;  but  habits,  when  they  have  been  confirmed  and  long 
contmued,  are  obstinate  things  to  contend  with,  and  are 
hardly  ever  entirely  subdued.  When  bad  habits  seem  to  be 
overcome,  and  we  think  we  have  got  rid  of  our  chains,  they 
may  perhaps  only  have  become,  as  it  were,  invisible ;  so  that 
when  we  thought  we  had  recovered  our  freedom  and  strength, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  repel  any  temptation,  we  may  lose  all 
power  of  resistance  on  the  first  approach  of  it. 

A  man  who  has  contracted  a  habit  of  vice,  and  been  aban- 
doned to  sinful  courses  for  some  time,  is  never  out  of  danger. 
He  is  exactly  in  the  case  of  a  man  who  has  long  labored 
under  a  chronical  disease,  and  is  perpetually  subject  to  a 
relapse.  The  first  shock  of  any  disorder  a  man's  constitution 
may  bear ;  and,  if  he  be  not  naturally  subject  to  it,  he  may 
perfectly  recover,  and  be  out  of  danger.  But  when  the  gene- 
ral habit  is  such  as  that  a  relapse  is  apprehended,  a  man's 
friends  and  physicians  are  alarmed  for  him. 

The  reason  is,  that  a  relapse  does  not  find  a  person  in  the 
condition  in  Avhich  he  was  when  the  first  fit  of  illness  seized 
him.  That  gave  his  constitution  a  shock,  and  left  him 
enfeebled,  so  as  to  be  less  able  to  sustain  another  shock ;  and 
especially  if  it  be  more  violent  than  the  former,  as  is  gene- 
rally the  case  in  th.ose  disorders. 

In  the  very  same  dangerous  situation  is  the  man  who  has 
ever  been  addicted  to  vicious  courses.  He  can  never  be 
said  to  be  perfectly  recovered,  whatever  appearances  may 
promise,  but  is  always  in  danger  of  a  fatal  relapse.  He 
ought,  therefore,  to  take  the  greatest  care  of  himself  He 
is  not  in  the  condition  of  a  person  who  has  never  known 
the  ways  of  wickedness.  He  ought,  therefore,  to  have  the 
greatest  distrust  of  himself,  and  set  a  double  watch  over  his 
thoughts,  words,  and  actions,  for  fear  of  a  surprise.  For  if 
once,  through  the  force  of  any  particular  temptation,  he 
should  fall   back   into  his   former   vicious  courses,  and  his 


THE  DANGER  OF  BAD  HABITS.  33 

former  disposition  should  return,  his  case  will  probably  be 
desperate.  He  will  plunge  himself  still  deeper  in  wicked- 
ness ;  and  his  having  abstained  for  a  time,  will  only,  as  it 
were,  have  whetted  his  appetite,  and  make  him  swallow  down 
the  poison  of  sin  by  larger  and  more  eager  draughts  than 
ever. 

Such  persons  may  be  so  entirely  in  the  power  of  vicious 
habits,  that  they  shall  be  in  no  sense  their  own  masters.  They 
may  even  see  the  danger  they  are  in,  wish  to  free  themselves 
from  the  habits  they  have  contracted,  and  yet  find  they 
have  no  force,  or  resolution,  to  relieve  themselves.  They 
are  not  to  be  rescued  from  the  snare  of  the  destroyer,  and 
brought  to  their  right  mind,  but  by  some  uncommon  and 
alarming  providence,  which  is  in  the  hands  of  God,  and 
which  he  may  justly  withhold,  when  his  patience  and  long- 
suffering  have  been  much  abused.  Justly  may  he  say  to 
such  an  habitual  sinner,  as  he  did  to  Ephraim  in  my  text, 
he  is  joined  to  idols,  he  is  joined  to  his  lusts,  let  him  alone. 
He  is  determined  to  have  the  pleasure  of  sin,  let  him  receive 
the  wages  of  sin  also. 

This  brings  me  to  the  third  head  of  my  discourse,  in  which 
I  propose  to  consider  the  equity  of  the  proceeding  with  res- 
pect to  God. 

It  may  be  said  that  it  is  not  agreeable  to  equity,  for  God 
to  favor  some  with  the  means  of  improvement,  and  suffer 
others  to  abandon  themselves  to  destruction,  without  a  pos- 
sibility of  escaping.  But  I  answer,  that  the  persons  whose 
case  I  have  been  describing,  have  had,  and  have  outlived, 
their  day  of  grace.  God  has  long  exercised  forbearance 
towards  them,  but  they  have  wearied  it  out ;  and  it  could 
not  be  expected  to  last  for  ever.  They  have  had  gracious 
invitations  to  repentance,  but  they  have  slighted  them  all : 
they  stopped  their  ears,  and  refused  to  return.  They  have 
been  tried  with  a  great  variety  both  of  merciful  and  of  afflic- 
tive providences,  but  they  made  no  good  use  of  them.  *'  Why 
3 


34  THE  DANGER  OF  BAD  HABITS. 

then,"  as  the  prophet  says,  "  should  they  be  stricken  any  more, 
when  they  will  only  revolt  more  and  more  ?  " 

A  day  of  trial  and  probation,  or  what  is  frequently  called 
a  day  of  grace,  must  necessarily  have  some  period.  Else 
when  would  the  time  of  retribution,  when  would  the  time 
of  rewards  and  punishments,  take  place  1  A  state  of  trial 
necessarily  respects  some  future  state,  in  which  men  must 
receive  according  to  their  deeds.  But  this  state  of  trial  it 
has  pleased  God  to  make  of  uncertain  duration  ;  no  doubt, 
to  keep  us  always  watchful,  having  our  accounts  always  in 
readiness,  because  in  such  an  hour  as  we  think  not,  our  Lord 
may  come  and  require  them.  The  state  of  trial,  therefore, 
is  with  some,  of  much  longer  duration  than  it  is  with  others; 
and  God  is  the  sovereign  arbiter  of  every  thing  relating  to 
it.  He  makes  our  lives  longer  or  shorter,  as  seems  good  in 
his  sight,  and  at  death,  a  state  of  trial  ends  of  course.  We 
may,  therefore,  as  well  pretend  to  question  the  justice  and 
equity  of  God's  cutting  us  off  by  death  when  and  in  what 
manner  he  pleases,  as  arraign  his  justice  in  sealing  up  our 
doom,  though  while  we  live,  whenever  he  pleases. 

No  doubt  God  gives  to  every  person  a  sufficient  trial ;  for, 
"  he  is  not  willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  had  rather 
that  all  should  come  to  repentance."  We  may,  therefore, 
assure  ourselves,  that  he  will  not  cease  to  endeavour  to  pro- 
mote the  reformation  of  a  sinner  by  all  proper  means,  till  he 
shall  become  absolutely  incorrigible,  and  the  methods  taken 
to  reclaim  him  would  be  abused  and  lost.  And  if  we  consider 
that  every  means  of  improvement  neglected,  adds  to  a  man's 
guilt  and  aggravates  his  condemnation  ;  it  may  even  appear 
to  be  mercy  in  the  Divine  Being  to  grant  a  person  no  farther 
means  of  improvement,  after  it  has  been  found,  by  actual 
trial,  that  they  would  only  have  been  abused,  and  therefore 
have  proved  highly  injurious  to  him.  Not  but  that  it  might 
have  been  sufficient  to  silence  every  cavil  of  this  kind,  to  say, 
as  Paul  does  on  a  similar  occasion,  "  Who  art  thou,  O  man, 
that  repliest  against  God ;  "  or  with  Abraham,  "  Shall  not  the 


THE  DANGER  OF  BAD  HABITS.  35 

Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  that  which  is  right  1  "  But  it  is 
proper  to  show,  that,  in  the  midst  of  judgment,  God  remem- 
bers mercy. 

There  is  a  very  pathetic  description  of  the  case  of  a 
sinner  who,  after  a  relapse  into  vicious  courses,  is  justly 
abandoned  of  God  to  seek  his  own  destruction,  in  a  parable 
of  our  Saviour's,  formed  upon  the  popular  opinion  of  the 
Jews  of  his  age  concerning  demons,  or  evil  spirits  :  "  When 
the  unclean  spirit  is  gone  out  of  a  man,  he  walketh  through 
dry  places,  seeking  rest,  and  findeth  none.  Then  he  saith, 
I  will  return  into  my  house  from  whence  I  came  out ;  and 
when  he  is  come,  he  findeth  it  empty,  swept,  and  garnished. 
Then  goeth  he,  and  taketh  with  himself  seven  other  spirits 
more  wicked  than  himself,  and  they  enter  in,  and  dwell  there, 
and  the  last  state  of  that  man  is  worse  than  the  first."  The 
application  of  this  parable  either  to  the  case  of  the  Jew^s  (for 
whom  it  seems  to  have  been  originally  intended)  or  to  par- 
ticular persons,  who,  after  a  seeming  reformation,  have  re- 
lapsed into  vicious  courses,  is  too  obvious  to  be  particularlv 
dwelt  upon. 

To  come,  therefore,  to  a  general  application  of  this  doc- 
trine :  Let  all  persons  who  are  sensible  of  the  folly  and  evil 
of  sinful  courses,  and  of  the  danger  of  persisting  in  them, 
make  a  speedy  and  effectual  retreat.  Let  us  do  nothino-  by 
halves.  To  be  lukewarm  in  religion,  is,  in  effect,  to  have  no 
religion  at  all.  We  must  give  God  our  hearts ;  we  must 
give  him  an  undivided  affection  ;  for  we  cannot  truly  love 
God  and  Mammon,  or  the  world,  at  the  same  time.  In  this 
unsettled  and  fluctuating  disposition,  temptations  will  have 
a  great  advantage  over  us.  We  shall  ever  be  in  danger  of 
throwing  off  all  restraint,  and  of  running  into  every  kind  of 
riot  and  excess,  till  nothing  on  the  part  of  Divine  Providence 
shall  occur  to  reclaim  us. 

In  reality,  my  brethren,  and  to  every  valuable  end  and 
purpose,  the  term  of  our  trial  and  probation  does  generally 
expire  long  before  the  term  of  our  natural   lives.     For  how 


36  THE  DANGER  OF  BAD  HABITS. 

kw  are  there  whose  characters,  whose  dispositions,  or  habits 
of  mind,  undergo  any  considerable  change  after  they  are 
grown  to  man's  estate  !  Our  tempers  and  general  characters 
are  usually  fixed  as  soon  as  we  have  fixed  ourselves  in  a 
regular  employment  and  mode  of  life;  for,  after  this,  we 
yee  almost  every  person  continue  the  very  same  to  the  end 
of  his  life.  Some  remarkable  providential  occurrence,  some 
fit  of  sickness,  or  some  unforeseen  misfortune  of  any  kind, 
may  alarm  those  who  have  been  addicted  to  vicious  courses, 
and  for  a  time  bring  them  to  serious  thought  and  reflection  ; 
but  if  they  be  turned  thirty  or  forty  years  of  age,  how  soon 
do  the  serious  purposes,  which  they  then  form,  go  off,  and 
their  former  modes  of  thinking  and  living  return !  Not 
only  with  respect  to  temper  and  disposition  of  mind,  as  it 
relates  to  virtue  or  vice,  but  with  respect  to  those  habits 
which  are  indifferent  to  morals,  we  see  that,  excepting  one 
case  perhaps  in  a  thousand,  they  are  not  subject  to  change 
after  the  period  that  I  have  mentioned.  Any  habits  that 
we  contract  early  in  life,  any  particular  bias  or  inclination, 
any  particular  cast  of  thought,  or  mode  of  conversation,  even 
any  particular  gesture  of  body,  as  in  walking,  sitting,  &.c. 
we  are  universally  known  by  among  our  acquaintance,  from 
the  time  that  we  properly  enter  life,  to  the  time  that  we  have 
done  with  it ;  as  much  as  we  are  l)y  the  tone  of  our  voice, 
or  our  handwriting,  which,  likewise,  are  of  the  nature  of 
habits  or  customs. 

These  observations  may  be  applied  in  a  great  measure 
even  to  matters  of  opinion,  (though,  naturally,  nothing  seems 
to  be  more  variable,)  as  well  as  to  mental  and  corporeal 
habits.  A  man  who  has  studied,  or  who  fancies  he  has 
studied,  any  particular  subject,  sooner  or  later  makes  up  his 
mind,  as  we  say,  with  respect  to  it ;  and  after  this,  all  argu- 
ments, intended  to  convince  him  of  his  mistake,  only  serve 
to  confirm  him  in  his  chosen  way  of  thinking.  An  argu- 
ment, or  evidence  of  any  kind,  that  is  entirely  new  to  a 
man,  may  make  a  proper  impression  upon  him ;  but  if  it  has 


THE    DANGER    OF    BAD    HABITS.  37 

been  often  proposed  to  him,  and  he  has  had  time  to  view 
and  consider  it,  so  as  to  have  hit  upon  any  method  of  evad- 
ing the  force  of  it,  he  is  afterwards  quite  callous  to  it,  and  can 
very  seldom  be  prevailed  upon  to  give  it  any  proper  atten- 
tion. This  consideration  accounts,  in  some  measure,  both 
for  the  great  influence  of  Christianity  on  its  first  publication, 
when  the  doctrines  were  new  and  striking,  and  also  for  the 
absolute  indifference  with  which  the  same  great  truths  are 
now  heard  in  all  Christian  countries. 

It  accounts  also  for  the  more  striking  effect  of  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Methodists,  than  ours.  They  find  people  utterly 
ignorant,  to  whom  the  truths,  the  promises,  and  the  threaten- 
ings  of  the  gospel  are  really  new ;  whereas  we  have  to  do 
with  persons  who  have  heard  them  from  their  infancy,  and 
have,  alas!  acquired  a  habit  of  disregarding  them.  But 
then  our  people  having,  in  general,  been  brought  up  in 
habits  of  virtue,  such  great  changes  of  character  and  conduct 
are  less  necessary  in  their  case.  It  is  to  be  regretted,  how- 
ever, that  they  too  seldom  exceed  that  mediocrity  of  charac- 
ter which  they  acquire  in  early  life.  I  speak  of  the  generality 
among  us ;  for  others  are  remarkable  exceptions,  persons 
of  disinterested  and  heroic  virtue,  in  fidl  proportion  to  the 
superior  advantages  which  they  enjoy. 

The  resistance  which  the  mind  makes  to  the  admission  of 
truth,  when  it  has  been  strongly  prejudiced  against  it,  is 
evident  both  with  respect  to  the  oelief  of  Christianity  in 
general,  and  of  particular  opinions  relating  to  it.  There  are 
many  persons  by  no  means  defective  with  respect  to  judg- 
ment in  other  things,  of  whose  conversion  to  Christianity  we 
can  have  no  more  reasonable  expectation,  than  of  the  sun 
rising  in  the  west,  even  though  they  should  consent  to  hear 
or  read  every  thing  that  we  could  propose  to  them  for  that 
purpose.  There  are  also  many  conscientious  and  intelligent 
Roman  Catholics,  absurd  as  we  justly  think  their  principles 
to  be,  who  would  deliberately  read  the  best  defences  of 
Protestantism  without  any  other  effect   than  that  of  being 


38  THE  DANGER  OF  BAD  HABITS. 

more  confirmed  in  their  prejudices  against  it.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  persons  professing  other  modes  of  faith,  so 
that  their  persuasions  are  not  to  be  changed,  except  by  such 
a  method  as  that  v/hich  was  applied  for  the  conversion  of  the 
apostle  Paul.  The  same  observation  may  also  be  applied  to 
many  opinions,  and  especially  to  a  general  bias  or  turn  of 
thinking  in  matters  of  a  political  nature,  and  even  in  subjects 
of  philosophy  or  criticism. 

Facts  of  this  kind,  of  which  we  are  all  witnesses,  and 
which  come  within  the  observation  of  every  day  in  our  lives, 
show,  in  a  very  striking  light,  what  care  we  ought  to  take 
in  forming  our  first  judgments  of  things,  and  in  contracting 
our  first  habits,  and  therefore  deserve  the  more  especial 
attention  of  young  persons ;  for  we  see  that  when  these 
principles  and  habits  are  once  properly  formed,  they  are 
generally  fixed  for  life.  Whatever  is  fact  with  respect  to 
mankind  in  general,  we  ought  to  conclude  to  be  the  case 
with  respect  to  ourselves ;  that  the  cause  is  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  our  common  nature,  and  dependent  upon  the  funda- 
mental laws  of  it,  and,  no  doubt,  a  wise  and  useful  part  of  it; 
and  we  must  not  expect  that  miracles  will  be  wrought  in  our 
favor. 

To  show  that  there  is  the  greatest  advantage,  as  well  as 
some  inconvenience,  resulting  from  this  disposition  to  fixity, 
as  we  call  it,  in  our  own  nature,  let  it  be  observed,  that  if 
there  was  nothing  fixed  or  permanent  in  the  human  charac- 
ter, wc  should  find  the  same  inconvenience  as  if  any  other 
law  of  nature  was  unsettled.  We  should  be  perpetually  at 
a  loss  how  to  conduct  ourselves,  how  to  behave  to  mankind 
in  general,  and  even  to  our  own  particular  friends  and  ac- 
quaintance, especially  after  having  been  for  any  space  of 
time  absent  from  them.  We  do  not  expect  to  find  persons 
the  very  same  in  all  changes  of  condition  or  circumstances, 
as  in  sickness  and  health,  prosperity  and  adversity,  &.c. ; 
but  then  we  generally  know  what  kind  of  change  to  expect 
in  them  in  those  circumstances,  and  we  regulate  our  con- 


THE    DANGER    OF    BAD    HABITS.  39 

duct  towards  them  by  our  experience  of  the  usual  effect  of 
similar  changes. 

These  observations,  when  applied  to  opinions,  may  serve 
to  amuse  us,  but  when  they  are  applied  to  practice,  they 
ought  seriously  to  alarm  us.  Let  all  those,  therefore,  who 
being  at  all  advanced  in  life,  see  reason  to  be  dissatisfied 
with  themselves,  with  their  disposition  of  mind,  and  their 
general  conduct,  be  alarmed ;  for  there  is  certainly  the 
greatest  reason  for  it,  probably  much  more  than  they  are 
themselves  aware  of  Persons  in  this  state  of  mind  always 
flatter  themselves  with  a  time  when  they  shall  have  more 
leisure  for  repentance  and  reformation  ;  but,  judging  from 
observation  on  others,  which  is  the  surest  guide  that  they 
can  follow  (infinitely  better  than  their  own  imaginations,) 
they  may  conclude  that  it  is  almost  a  certainty  that  such  a 
time  will  never  come. 

If  they  should  have  the  leisure  for  repentance  and  refor- 
mation which  they  promised  themselves,  it  is  not  probable 
that  sufficient  strength  of  resolution  will  come  along  with  it. 
Indeed,  all  resolutions  to  repent  at  a  future  time  are  neces- 
sarily insincere,  and  must  be  a  mere  deception,  because 
they  imply  a  preference  of  a  man's  present  habits  and  con- 
duct, that  he  is  really  unwilling  to  change  them,  and  that 
nothing  but  necessity  would  lead  him  to  make  any  attempt 
of  the  kind.  In  fact,  he  can  only  mean  that  he  will  discon- 
tinue particular  actions,  his  habits  or  temper  of  mind  remain- 
ing the  same. 

Besides,  a  real,  effectual  repentance  or  reformation  is 
such  a  total  change  in  a  man  as  cannot,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  take  place  in  a  short  space  of  time.  A  man's  habits 
are  formed  by  the  scenes  he  has  gone  through,  and  the  im- 
pressions which  they  have  made  upon  him  ;  and  when 
death  approaches,  a  man  has  not  another  life,  like  this,  to 
live  over  again.  He  may,  even  on  a  death-bed,  most  sin- 
cerely wish  that  he  had  a  pious  and  benevolent  disposition, 
with  the  love   of  virtue  in    all   its  branches :  but  that  wish, 


40  THE    DANGER    OF    BAD    HABITS. 

though  it  be  ever  so  sincere  and  earnest,  can  no  more  pro- 
duce a  proper  change  in  his  mind,  than  it  can  restore  him  to 
health,  or  make  him  taller  or  stronger  than  he  is. 

The  precise  time  when  this  confirmed  state  of  mind  takes 
place,  or,  in  the  language  of  Scripture,  the  time  when  any 
person  is  thus  left  of  God,  or  left  to  himself,  cannot  be  de- 
termined. It  is  necessarily  various  and  uncertain.  But  in 
general  we  may  say,  that  when  any  person  has  been  long 
abandoned  to  vicious  courses,  when  vice  is  grown  into  a 
habit  with  him,  and  especially  when  his  vices  are  more  pro- 
perly of  a  mental  nature,  such  as  a  disposition  to  envy, 
malice,  or  selfishness  (which  are  the  most  inveterate,  the 
most  difficult  to  be  eradicated  of  all  vices,)  when  neither 
health  nor  sickness,  prosperity  nor  adversity ;  when  neither 
a  man's  own  reflections,  the  remonstrances  of  his  friends, 
nor  admonitions  from  the  pulpit,  have  any  visible  effect  upon 
him  ;  when,  after  this,  we  see  no  great  change  in  his  worldly 
affairs  or  connexions,  but  he  goes  on  from  day  to  day,  from 
month  to  month,  and  from  year  to  year,  without  any  sensible 
alteration  ;  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  he  is  fallen  into  this 
fatal  security,  that  he  is,  as  it  were,  fallen  asleep,  and  that 
this  sleep  will  be  the  sleep  of  death. 

However,  a  shadow  of  hope  is  not  to  be  despised.  One 
chance  in  a  thousand  is  still  a  chance ;  and  there  are  persons 
whose  vigor  of  mind  is  such,  that,  when  sufficiently  roused, 
they  are  equal  to  almost  any  thing.  Let  those,  therefore, 
who  see  their  danger  at  any  time  of  life,  be  up  and  doing, 
working  out  their  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  that,  if 
possible,  they  may  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come. 


HABITUAL  DEVOTION. 


God,  my  Christian  brethren,  is  a  being  with  whom  we 
all  of  us  have  to  do,  and  the  relation  we  stand  in  to  him  is 
the  most  important  of  all  our  relations.  Our  connexions 
with  other  beings  and  other  things  are  slight  and  transient, 
in  comparison  with  this.  God  is  our  maker,  our  constant 
preserver  and  benefactor,  our  moral  governor,  and  our  final 
judge.  He  is  present  with  us  wherever  we  are  ;  the  secrets 
of  all  hearts  are  constantly  known  to  him,  and  he  is  of  purer 
eyes  than  to  behold  iniquity.  Here,  then,  is  a  situation,  in 
which  we  find  ourselves,  that  demands  our  closest  attention. 
The  consideration  is,  in  the  highest  degree,  interesting  and 
alarming ;  knowing  how  absolutely  dependent  we  are  upon 
God,  that  "  in  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being," 
and  knowing  also,  that  by  vice  and  folly  we  have  rendered 
ourselves  justly  obnoxious  to  his  displeasure. 

Now,  to  think,  and  to  act,  in  a  manner  corresponding  to 
this  our  necessary  intercourse  with  God,  certainly  requires 
that  we  keep  up  an  habitual  regard  to  it ;  and  a  total,  or 
very  great  degree  of  inattention  to  it,  must  be  highly  crimi- 
nal and  dangerous.  Accordingly,  we  find  in  the  Scriptures, 
that  it  is  characteristic  of  a  good  man,  that  "  he  sets  the  Lord 
always  before  him,"  and  that  "he  acknowledges  God  in  all 
his  ways."  Whereas,  it  is  said  of  the  wicked,  that  "  God 
is  not  in  all  their  thoughts  ,  "  and  elsewhere,  that  "  there  is 
no  fear  of  God  before  their  eyes  ;  "  that  "  they  put  the  thoughts 
of  God  far  from  them,  and  will  not  the  knowledge  of  the  Most 
High." 


42 


HABITUAL    DEVOTION. 


This  circumstance  seems  to  furnish  a  pretty  good  test  of 
the  state  of  a  man's  mind  with  respect  to  virtue  and  vice. 
The  most  abandoned  and  profligate  of  mankind  are  those 
who  live  without  God  in  the  world,  entirely  thoughtless  of 
his  being,  perfections  and  providence  ;  having  their  hearts 
wholly  engrossed  with  this  world  and  the  things  of  it;  by 
which  means  those  passions  which  terminate  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  them,  are  inflamed  to  such  a  degree,  that  no  other 
principle  can  restrain  their  indulgence.  These  persons  may 
be  called  practical  atheists  ;  and  the  temper  of  mind  they 
have  acquired,  often  leads  them  to  deny  both  natural  and 
revealed  religion.  They  secretly  wish,  indeed  they  cannot 
but  wish,  there  may  be  no  truth  in  those  principles,  the  ap- 
prehension of  which  is  apt  to  give  them  disturbance  ;  and 
hence  they  give  little  attention  to  the  evidence  that  is  pro- 
duced for  them,  and  magnify  all  the  objections  they  hear 
made  to  them.  And  it  is  well  known,  that,  in  a  mind  so 
strongly  biassed,  the  most  cogent  reasons  often  amount  to 
nothing,  while  the  most  trifling  cavils  pass  for  demonstra- 
tion. It  is  the  same  with  respect  to  any  other  speculation, 
when  the  mind  has  got  a  bias  in  favor  of  any  particular  con- 
clusion. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  truly  and  perfectly  good  man  loves, 
and  therefore  cherishes,  the  thought  of  God,  his  father  and 
his  friend ;  till  every  production  of  divine  power  and  skill, 
every  instance  of  divine  bounty,  and  every  event  of  divine 
providence,  never  fails  to  suggest  to  his  mind  the  idea  of 
the  great  Author  of  all  things,  the  Giver  of  every  good  and 
every  perfect  gift,  and  the  sovereign  Disposer  of  all  affairs  and 
of  all  events.  Thus  he  lives,  as  it  were,  constantly  seeing 
Him  who  is  invisible.  He  sees  God  in  every  thing,  and  he 
sees  every  thing  in  God.  He  dwells  in  love,  and  thereby 
dwells  in  God,  and  God  in  him.  And  so  long  as  he  con- 
siders himself  as  living  in  the  world  which  God  has  made, 
and  partaking  of  the  bounty  with  which  his  providence  sup- 
plies him ;  so  long  as  he  is  intent  upon  discharging  his  duty, 


HABITUAL    DEVOTION.  43 

in  the  situation  in  which  he  believes  the  Divine  Being  has 
placed  him,  and  meets  with  no  greater  trials  and  difficulties 
than,  he  is  persuaded,  his  God  and  Father  has  appointed  for 
his  good  ;  it  is  almost  impossible  that  the  thought  of  God 
should  ever  be  long  absent  from  his  mind.  Every  thing  he 
sees  or  feels  will  make  it  recur  again  and  again  perpetually. 
His  whole  life  will  be,  as  it  were,  one  act  of  devotion  ;  and 
this  state  of  mind,  being  highly  pleasurable,  and  his  satisfac- 
tion having  infinite  sources,  will  be  daily  increasing,  so  as  to 
grow  more  equable,  and  more  intense,  to  all  eternity ;  when 
it  will  be  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory. 

1.  An  habitual  regard  to  God  in  our  actions  tends  greatly 
to  keep  us  firm  in  our  adherence  to  our  duty.  It  has 
pleased  Divine  Providence  to  place  man  in  a  state  of  trial 
and  probation.  This  world  is  strictly  such.  We  are  sur- 
rounded with  a  great  variety  of  objects,  adapted  to  gratify  a 
variety  of  senses,  with  which  we  are  furnished.  The  pleas- 
ures they  give  us  are  all  innocent  in  moderation,  and  they 
engage  us  in  a  variety  of  agreeable  and  proper  pursuits. 
But  our  natures  are  such,  as  that  the  frequent  indulgence 
of  any  of  our  appetites  tends  to  make  its  demands  inordi- 
nate, and  to  beget  an  habitual  propensity  to  indulge  it ;  and 
this  proneness  to  the  excessive  indulgence  of  any  of  our 
passions  enslaves  our  minds,  and  is  highly  dangerous  and 
criminal.  By  this  means  we  too  often  come  to  forget  God 
our  maker,  to  injure  our  fellow-creatures  of  mankind,  and 
to  do  a  still  greater  and  more  irreparable  injury  to  ourselves, 
both  in  mind  and  body. 

It  has  pleased  Almighty  God,  therefore,  from  the  concern 
he  had  for  our  good,  to  forbid  these  immoderate  indulgences 
of  the  love  of  pleasure,  riches,  and  honor,  by  express  laws, 
guarded  with  the  most  awful  sanctions.  Now  we  are  cer- 
tainly less  liable  to  forget  these  laws,  and  our  obligation 
to  observe  them,  w  hen  we  keep  up  an  habitual  regard  to 
our  great  Lawgiver  and  Judge ;  when  we  consider  him  as 


44  HABITUAL    DEVOTION. 

always  present  with  us  ;  when  we  consider  that  his  eyes  are 
in  every  pLace,  beholding  both  the  evil  and  the  good ;  that  he 
sees  in  secret,  and  will  one  day  reward  openly.  In  this  man- 
ner we  shall  acquire  an  habitual  reverence  for  God  and  his 
laws,  which  will  end  in  an  habitual  obedience  to  them,  even 
without  any  express  regard  to  their  authority.  Thus  we 
should  certainly  be  less  likely  to  neglect  the  request  of  a 
friend,  or  the  injunction  of  a  master,  if  we  could  always 
keep  in  mind  the  remembrance  of  our  friend  or  master; 
and  a  constant  attention  to  them  would  certainly  give  us  a 
habit  of  pleasing  them  in  all  things. 

2.  An  habitual  regard  to  God  promotes  an  uniform  cheer- 
fulness of  mind ;  it  tends  to  dissipate  anxiety,  or  melan- 
choly, and  may  even,  in  some  cases,  prevent  madness. 
Without  a  regard  to  God,  as  the  maker  and  governor  of 
all  things,  this  world  affords  but  a  gloomy  and  uncomforta- 
ble prospect.  Without  this,  we  see  no  great  end  for  which 
we  have  to  live  ;  we  have  no  great  or  animating  object  to 
pursue  ;  and  whatever  schemes  we  may  be  carrying  on,  our 
views  are  bounded  by  a  very  short  and  narrow  space.  To 
an  atheist,  therefore,  every  thing  must  appear  little,  dark, 
and  confused.  And  let  it  be  considered  that,  in  proportion 
as  we  forget  God,  and  lose  our  regard  to  him,  we  adopt  the 
sentiments  and  views  of  atheists,  and  shut  our  eyes  to  the 
bright  and  glorious  prospects  which  religion  exhibits  to  us. 

Religion,  my  brethren,  the  doctrine  of  a  God,  of  a  provi- 
dence, and  of  a  future  state,  opens  an  immense,  a  glorious, 
and  most  transporting  prospect ;  and  every  man,  who  is 
humbly  conscious  that  he  conforms  to  the  will  of  his  Maker, 
may  enjoy  and  rejoice  in  this  prospect.  Considering  our- 
selves as  the  subjects  of  the  moral  government  of  God,  we 
see  a  most  important  sphere  of  action  in  which  vvc  have  to 
exert  ourselves ;  we  have  the  greatest  of  all  objects  set  before 
us,  "  glory,  honor,  and  immortality  ;  an  inheritance  incorrupti- 
ble, undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away,"  as  the  reward  of 
our   faithful   perseverance   in   well-doing ;    and   we   have   a 


HABITUAL    DEVOTION.  45 

boundless  existence,   an  eternity,   in   which   to  pursue    and 
enjoy  this  reward. 

These  great  views  and  objects,  the  contemplation  of  which 
must  be  habitual  to  the  mind  which  keeps  up  an  habitual 
regard  to  God,  cannot  fail  to  diminish  the  lustre  of  the  things 
of  time  and  sense,  which  engage  our  attention  here  below ; 
and  while  they  lessen  our  solicitude  and  anxiety  about  them, 
they  must  cure  that  fretfulness  and  distress  of  mind  which  is 
occasioned  by  the  disappointments  we  meet  with  in  them. 

3.  An  habitual  regard  to  God  fits  a  man  for  the  business 
of  this  life,  giving  a  peculiar  presence  and  intrepidity  of 
mind  ;  and  is,  therefore,  the  best  support  in  difficult  enter- 
prises of  any  kind.  A  man  who  keeps  up  an  habitual 
regard  to  God,  who  acknowledges  him  in  all  his  ways,  and 
lives  a  life  of  devotion  to  him,  has  a  kind  of  union  with  God  ; 
feeling,  in  some  measure,  the  same  sentiments,  and  having 
the  same  views.  Hence,  being,  in  the  language  of  the 
apostle,  "  a  worker  together  with  God,"  and  therefore  being 
confident  that  God  is  with  him  and  for  him,  "  he  will  not  fear 
what  man  can  do  unto  him."  Moreover,  fearing  God,  and 
having  confidence  in  him,  he  is  a  stranger  to  every  other  fear. 
Being  satisfied  that  God  will  work  all  his  pleasure  in  him,  by 
him,  and  for  him,  he  is  free  from  alarm  and  perturbation,  and 
is  not  easily  disconcerted,  so  as  to  lose  the  possession  of  his 
own  mind.  And  having  this  presence  of  mind,  being  con- 
scious of  the  integrity  of  his  own  heart,  confiding  in  the  fa- 
vor of  his  Maker,  and  therefore,  sensible  that  there  is  noth- 
ing of  much  real  value  that  hs  can  lose,  he  will  have  leisure 
to  consider  every  situation  in  which  he  finds  himself,  and  be 
able  to  act  with  calmness  and  prudence,  as  circumstances 
may  require. 

*         *  * 

Having  thus  considered  the  important  effects  of  an  habitual 
regard  to  God  in  all  our  ways,  I  come  to  treat  of  the  most 
proper  and  effectual  methods  of  promoting  this  temper  of 
mind. 


46  HABITUAL    DEVOTION. 

1.  If  you  be  really  desirous  to  cultivate  this  habitual 
devotion,  endeavour,  in  the  first  place,  to  divest  your  minds 
of  too  great  a  multiplicity  of  the  cares  of  this  world.  The 
man  who  lives  to  God,  in  the  manner  which  I  have  been 
endeavouring  to  describe,  lives  to  him  principally,  and  loves 
and  confides  in  him  above  all.  To  be  solicitous  about  this 
world,  therefore,  as  if  our  chief  happiness  consisted  in  it, 
must  be  incompatible  with  this  devotion.  We  cannot  serve 
God  and  Mammon.  If  we  be  Christians,  we  should  con- 
sider, that  the  great  and  professed  object  of  our  religion, 
is  the  revelation  of  a  future  life,  of  unspeakably  more  im- 
portance to  us  than  this  transitory  world,  and  the  perishable 
things  of  it.  As  Christians,  we  should  consider  ourselves 
as  citizens  of  heaven,  and  only  strangers  and  pilgrims  here 
below.  We  must  therefore  see,  that,  as  Christians,  there  is 
certainly  required  of  us  a  considerable  degree  of  indifference 
about  this  world,  which  was  only  intended  to  serve  us  as  a 
passage  to  a  better. 

The  Divine  Being  himself  has  made  wise  provision  for 
lessening  the  cares  of  this  world,  by  the  appointment  of  one 
day  in  seven,  for  the  purpose  of  rest  and  avocation  from 
labor.  Let  us  then,  at  least,  take  the  advantage  which  this 
day  gives  us,  of  "calling  off  our  eyes  from  beholding  vanity," 
and  of  "  quickening  us  in  the  ways  of  God." 

This  advice  I  would  particularly  recommend  to  those 
persons  who  are  engaged  in  arts,  manufactures,  and  commerce. 
For,  highly  beneficial  as  these  things  are,  in  a  political  view, 
and  subservient  to  the  elegant  enjoyment  of  life,  they  seem 
not  to  be  so  favorable  to  religion  and  devotion,  as  the  busi- 
ness of  agriculture ;  and  for  this  reason,  therefore,  probably 
among  others,  the  Divine  Being  forbade  commerce  to  the 
people  of  the  Jews,  and  gave  them  such  laws  as  are  chiefly 
adapted  to  a  life  of  husbandry.  The  husbandman  is  in  a 
situation  peculiarly  favorable  to  the  contemplation  of  the 
works  of  God,  and  to  a  sense  of  his  dependence  upon  him. 
The  rain  from  heaven,  and  various  circumstances  relating  to 


HABITUAL    DEVOTION.  47 

the  weather,  &c.,  on  which  the  goodness  of  his  crops  depends, 
he  receives  as  from  the  hand  of  God,  and  is  hardly  sensible 
of  any  secondary  or  more  immediate  cause.  If  he  under- 
stand any  thing  of  the  principles  of  vegetation,  and  can 
account  for  a  k\v  obvious  appearances  upon  what  we  call  the 
laws  of  nature ;  these  laws  he  knows  to  be  the  express 
appointment  of  God ;  and  he  cannot  help  perceiving  the 
wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  in  the  appointment ;  so  that 
the  objects  about  which  he  is  daily  conversant,  are,  in  their 
nature,  a  lesson  of  gratitude  and  praise. 

Besides,  the  employment  of  the  husbandman  being  chiefly 
to  bring  food  out  of  the  earth,  his  attention  is  more  confined 
to  the  real  wants  or  at  least,  the  principal  conveniencies,  of 
life;  and  his  mind  is  not,  like  that  of  the  curious  artist  and 
manufacturer,  so  liable  to  be  fascinated  by  a  taste  for  super- 
fluities, and  the  fictitious  wants  of  men. 

Nor,  lastly,  does  the  business  of  husbandry  so  wholly 
engross  a  man's  thoughts  and  attention,  while  he  is  employed 
about  it,  as  many  of  the  arts  and  manufactures,  and  as 
commerce  necessarily  does.  And  it  should  be  a  general  rule 
with  us,  that  the  more  attention  of  mind  our  employment  in 
life  requires,  the  more  careful  should  we  be  to  draw  our 
thoughts  from  it,  on  the  day  of  rest,  and  at  other  intervals  of 
time  set  apart  for  devotional  purposes.  Otherwise,  a  worldly- 
minded  temper,  not  being  checked  or  controlled  by  any  thing 
of  a  contrary  tendency,  will  necessarily  get  possession  of  our 
hearts. 

2.  This  brings  me  to  the  second  advice,  which  is,  by  no 
means  to  omit  stated  times  of  worshipping  God  by  prayer, 
putlic  and  private.  Every  passion  and  affection  in  our 
frame  is  strengthened  by  the  proper  and  natural  expression 
of  it.  Thus  frequent  intercourse  and  conversation  with 
those  we  love  promote  friendship,  and  so  also  the  inter- 
course we  keep  up  with  God  by  prayer,  in  which  we  express 
our  reverence  and  love  of  him  and  our  confidence  in  him, 
promotes  a  spirit  of  devotion,  and  makes  it  easier  for  the 


48  HABITUAL    DEVOTION. 

ideas  of  the  Divine  Being  and  his  providence  to  occur  to 
the  mind  on  other  occasions,  when  we  are  not  formally 
praying  to  him.  Besides,  if  persons  whose  thoughts  are 
much  employed  in  the  husiness  of  this  life,  had  no  time  set 
apart  for  tlie  exercises  of  devotion,  they  would  be  in  danger 
of  neglecting  it  entirely  ;  at  least,  to  a  degree  that  would  be 
attended  with  a  great  diminution  of  their  virtue  and  happiness. 
But,  in  order  that  the  exercises  of  devotion  may  be  the 
most  efficacious  to  promote  the  true  spirit  and  general  habit 
of  it,  it  is  advisable  that  prayers,  properly  so  called,  that  is, 
direct  addresses  to  the  Divine  Being,  be  short.  The  strong 
feelings  of  reverence,  love,  and  confidence,  which  ought  to 
animate  our  devotions,  cannot  be  kept  up  in  such  minds  as 
ours,  through  a  prayer  of  considerable  length  ;  and  a  tedious 
languor  in  prayer  is  of  great  disservice  to  the  life  of  religion, 
as  it  accustoms  the  mind  to  think  of  God  with  indifference  ; 
whereas,  it  is  of  the  utmost  consequence,  that  the  Divine 
Being  always  appear  to  us  as  an  object  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance, and  engage  the  whole  attention  of  our  souls. 
Except,  therefore,  in  public,  where  prayers  of  a  greater 
length  are,  in  a  manner,  necessary,  and  where  the  presence 
and  concurrence  of  our  fellow-worshippers  assist  to  keep  up 
the  fervor  of  our  common  devotion,  it  seems  more  advisa- 
ble, that  devotional  exercises  have  intervals  of  meditation, 
calculated  to  impress  our  minds  more  deeply  with  the  sen- 
timents we   express ;     and  that  they  be   used    without    any 

strict  regard  to  particular  times,  places,  or  posture  of  body. 

*         *  * 

3.  In  the  course  of  your  usual  employments,  omit  no 
proper  opportunity  of  turning  your  thoughts  towards  God. 
Habitually  regard  him  as  the  ultimate  cause,  and  proper 
author  of  every  thing  you  see,  and  the  disposer  of  all  events 
that  respect  yourselves  or  others.  This  will  not  fail  to  make 
the  idea  of  God  occur  familiarly  to  your  mind,  and  influence 
your  whole  conduct. 


HABITUAL    DEVOTION.  49 

4.  In  a  more  especial  manner,  never  fail  to  have  recourse 
to  God  upon  every  occasion  of  strong  emotion  of  mind 
whether  it  be  of  a  pleasurable,  or  of  a  painful  nature.  When 
your  mind  is  laboring  under  distressing  doubts  and  great 
anxiety,  or  when  you  are  in  any  way  embarrassed  in  the 
conduct  of  your  affairs,  fly  to  God,  as  your  friend  and  father, 
your  counsellor  and  your  guide.  In  a  sincere  and  earnest 
endeavour  to  discharge  your  duty,  and  to  act  the  upright 
and  honorable  part,  commit  your  way  unto  him,  repose  your- 
selves upon  his  providence,  confiding  in  his  care  to  overrule 
everything  for  the  best;  and  you  will  find  a  great,  and  almost 
instantaneous  relief.  Your  perturbation  of  mind  will  sub- 
side, as  by  a  charm,  and  the  storm  will  become  a  settled  calm. 
Tumultuous  and  excessive  joy  will  also  be  moderated  by  this 
means ;  and  thus  all  your  emotions  will  be  rendered  more 
equable,  more  pleasurable,  and  more  lasting.  And  this  is 
produced  not  by  any  supernatural  agency  of  God  on  the 
mind,  but  is  the  natural  eflTect  of  placing  entire  confidence 
in  a  Being  of  perfect  wisdom  and  goodness. 

But  the  capital  advantage  you  will  derive  from  this  prac- 
tice will  be,  that  the  idea  of  God  being,  by  this  means, 
associated  with  all  the  strongest  emotions  of  your  mind, 
your  whole  stock  of  devotional  sentiments  and  feelings  will 
be  increased.  All  those  strong  emotions,  now  separately 
indistinguishable,  will  coalesce  with  the  idea  of  God,  and 
make  part  of  the  complex  train  of  images  suggested  by  the 
term,  so  that  you  will  afterwards  think  of  God  oftener,  and 
with  more  fervor  than  before ;  and  the  thought  of  him  will 
have  greater  influence  with  you  than  ever. 

5.  In  order  to  cultivate  the  spirit  of  habitual  devotion, 
labor  to  free  your  minds  from  all  consciousness  of  guilt 
and  self-reproach,  by  means  of  a  constant  attention  to  the 
upright  and  steady  discharge  of  the  whole  of  your  duty. 
In  consequence  of  neglecting  our  duty,  we  become  back- 
wards, as  we  may  say,  to  make  our  appearance  before  God. 
We   cannot  iook   up  to   him   with   full   confidence  of  hia 

4 


50  HABITUAL    DEVOTION. 

favor  and  blessing ;  and  are,  therefore,  too  apt  to  omit 
devotion  entirely.  Besides,  we  always  feel  an  aversion  to 
the  exercise  of  self-abasement  and  contrition,  which  are  all 
the  sentiments  that  we  can  with  propriety  indulge  in  those 
circumstances ;  especially  as  we  have  a  secret  suspicion, 
that  we  shall,  for  some  time  at  least,  go  on  to  live  as 
we  have  done  ;  so  that  rather  than  confess  our  sins,  and 
continue  to  live  in  them,  we  choose  not  to  make  confession 
at  all. 

But  this,  my  brethren,  is  egregious  trifling,  and  highly 
dano-erous.  Thus,  at  best,  all  improvement  is  at  a  stand 
with  us,  if  we  be  not  going  fatally  backwards  in  our  moral 
state.  If  this  be  our  character  (as  I  believe  it  is,  more  or 
less,  that  of  a  very  great  number  even  of  those  I  have  called 
the  better  sort  of  the  middle  classes  of  men)  let  us  in  time, 
and  in  good  earnest,  cast  oif  all  our  sins,  negligences,  and 
follies,  by  true  repentance.  Let  us  draw  near,  and  acquaint 
ourselves  with  God,  that  we  may  be  at  peace.  You  can 
have  no  true  peace,  assurance,  or  satisfaction  of  mind  in 
this  life  without  it :  for,  if  you  be  of  the  class  I  am  now 
referring  to,  it  is  too  late  for  you  to  have  a  perfect  enjoy- 
ment of  a  life  of  sin  and  dissipation.  And  between  that 
kind  of  peace,  or  rather  stupor,  which  those  who  are  aban- 
doned to  wickedness,  those  who  are  wholly  addicted  to  this 
world  and  make  it  their  sole  end  (or  those  who  are  grossly 
ignorant  of  religion)  enjoy,  and  that  inward  peace  and  satis- 
faction which  accompanies  the  faithful  and  earnest  discharge 
of  every  known  duty,  there  is  no  suflicient  medium.  You 
may  go  about  seeking  rest  in  this  wide  space,  while  your 
hearts  are  divided  between  God  and  the  world,  but  you  will 
find  none ;  whereas,  the  fruit  of  righteousness,  of  a  sincere 
and  impartial,  though  imperfect,  obedience  to  the  law  of  God, 
is  peace  and  assurance  for  ever. 

6.  To  facilitate  the  exercise  of  devotion,  cultivate  in  your 
minds  just  ideas  of  God  with  whom  you  have  to  do  upon 
those  occasions,  and  divest  your  minds,  as  far  as  possible,  of 


HABITUAL    DEVOTION".  51 

all  superstitious  and  dishonorable  notions  of  him.  Consider 
him  as  the  good  Father  of  the  prodigal  son,  in  that  excellent 
parable  of  our  Saviour.  Let  it  sink  deep  into  your  minds,  as 
one  of  the  most  important  of  all  principles,  that  the  God  with 
whom  we  have  to  do,  is  essentially,  of  himself,  and  without 
regard  to  any  foreign  consideration  whatever,  "  abundant  in 
mercy,  not  willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  he  had 
rather  that  all  should  come  to  repentance  ; "  and  then,  not- 
withstanding you  consider  yourselves  as  frail,  imperfect,  and 
sinful  creatures ;  and  though  you  cannot  help  accusing  your- 
selves of  much  negligence,  folly,  and  vice  ;  you  may  still 
approach  him  with  perfect  confidence,  in  his  readiness  to 
receive,  love  and  cherish  you,  upon  your  sincere  return  to 
him. 

In  this  light  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  always  represented  "  his 
Father  and  our  Father,  his  God  and  our  God."  This  is  the 
most  solid  ground  of  consolation  to  minds  burdened  with  a 
sense  of  guilt ;  and  what  is  of  great  advantage,  it  is  the  most 
natural,  the  most  easy  and  intelligible  of  all  others.  If 
once  you  quit  this  firm  hold,  you  involve  yourselves  in  a 
system,  and  a  labyrinth,  in  which  you  either  absolutely  find 
no  rest  and  wander  in  uncertainty  and  horror  ;  or,  if  you  do 
attain  to  any  thing  of  assurance,  it  is  of  such  a  kind,  and  in 
such  a  manner,  as  can  hardly  fail  to  feed  that  spiritual  pride 
which  will  lead  you  to  despise  others ;  nay,  unless  counter- 
acted by  other  causes,  too  often  ends   in   a  spirit  of  censo- 

riousness,  hatred,  and  persecution. 

*         *         * 

We  well  know,  my  Christian  brethren,  what  it  is  that  the 
Lord  our  God  requires  of  us,  in  order  to  live  and  to  die  in 
his  favor ;  namely,  "  to  do  justly,  and  to  love  mercy,  and  to 
walk  humbly  with  our  God."  To  this  plain  path  of  duty, 
then,  let  us  adhere,  without  being  anxious  about  any  thing 
farther.  Whether  we  have  those  fervors  of  devotion  which 
some  feel,  and  are  apt  to  be  proud  of,  or  not,  we  shall  expe- 
rience that  great  peace  of  mind  which  all  those  have  who 


52  HABITUAL    DEVOTION. 

keep  God's  law  ;  and  having  lived  the  life  of  the  righteous, 
our  latter  end  will  also  be  like  his ;  the  foundation  of  our  joy 
being  "  the  testimony  of  our  consciences,  that  in  simplicity 
and  godly  sincerity,  —  we  have  had  our  conversation  in  the 
world." 

It  is  true,  we  are  imperfect,  sinful  creatures ;  but,  not- 
withstanding this,  we  have  all  possible  encouragement  given 
us  to  trust  in  the  abundant  mercy  of  our  gracious  God  and 
Father,  in  that  mercy  which  is  essential  to  his  nature,  as  a 
Being  who  is  infinitely  good,  and  who  is  love  itself;  and 
which,  if  we  could  entertain  the  least  doubt  concerning  it, 
he  has  fully  declared  to  all  the  world,  by  Moses  and  the 
prophets,  by  Jesus  Christ  and  hife  apostles,  whom  he  sent 
into  the  world  to  preach  the  grateful  doctrine  of  repentance 
and  remission  of  sins,  thereby  to  redeem  (that  is,  to  deliver) 
us  from  all  iniquity  and  to  reconcile  us  to  God.  Animated, 
therefore,  by  the  glorious  promises  of  the  gospel,  let  us,  my 
Christian  brethren,  be  "  steadfast,  unmoveable,  always 
abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  knowing  that  our  labor 
shall  not  finally  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord." 


SOCIAL  AND  PUBLIC  WORSHIP. 


If  an  attention  be  paid  to  the  real  principles  of  human  na- 
ture, which  Mr.  Wakefield  calls  the  character  of  the  human 
mind,  it  appears  to  me,  that  we  must  perceive  the  wisdom 
of  all  the  usual  means  of  virtue,  and  of  social  prayer  among 
the  rest,  as  what  every  man,  be  his  attainments  what  they 
will,  really  needs,  and  may  usefully  avail  himself  of  Every 
passion  or  affection  of  our  minds  is  strengthened  by  proper 
exercise  ;  and  all  the  social  passions  (and  those  of  devotion 
are  all  of  this  class)  are  best  e.xercised  in  company.  Will 
any  person  pretend  that  he  can  be  so  cheerful  alone,  as  in  the 
company  of  those  who  are  as  much  exhilarated  as  himself? 
Does  not  every  man  feel  the  glow  of  patriotism  with  double 
fervor  when  others  join  him  in  expressing  the  same  patriotic 
sentiments  ?  Is  not  this  the  principle  on  which  all  clubs, 
and  social  meetings  of  that  kind,  are  formed  ?  Must  not, 
then,  the  sentiments  of  devotion  be  felt  with  peculiar  fer- 
vor when  others  join  us  in  them,  either  in  hymns  or  in 
prayer  ?  Let  any  man  go  into  a  Catholic  church,  abroad, 
where  he  will  see,  as  I  have  done,  the  natural  expressions  of 
devotion,  unrestrained  by  shame,  and  where  there  is  no  sus- 
picion of  hypocrisy,  and  say  whether  he  be  not  excited  to 
devotion  by  the  sight.  If  he  do  not  choose  to  go  into  a 
church,  he  may  be  some  judge  in  this  case  by  seeing  even 
the  counterfeit  devotion  of  an  actor  on  the  stage,  or  viewing 
it  in  a  good  picture, 


54  SOCIAL    AND    PUBLIC    WORSHIP. 

Certainly  there  are  seasons  in  which  it  is  best  for  a  man 
to  be  alone,  and  to  pour  out  his  heart  before  his  Father,  who 
seeth  in  secret;  but  at  other  times,  especially  when  the 
mind  is  less  disposed  to  fervor,  it  is  equally  advantageous 
to  join  in  the  common  forms  of  adoration,  confession,  thanks- 
giving, and  petition,  with  others.  We  also  feel  the  senti- 
ments of  brotherly  love  with  peculiar  warmth  when  we  pre- 
sent ourselves  at  the  same  time  in  the  presence  of  our  com- 
mon Father,  and  jointly  express  the  feelings  that  belong  to 
our  common  and  most  interesting  relation  to  him.  This 
practice  must,  in  a  more  especial  manner,  tend  to  repress  all 
resentment,  and  promote  compassion  and  good-will.  We 
are  all  the  offending  children  of  the  same  Parent,  and  equally 
stand  in  need  of  the  same  indulgence  and  mercy  :  let  us 
therefore  join  in  supplicating  it  together. 

I  do  not  say  that  our  present  forms  of  devotion  will  suit 
a  man  in  the  more  advanced  state  of  being  to  which  he  will 
be  raised  in  the  state  after  death,  because  I  know  nothing  of 
that  state ;  but  they  appear  to  be  well  adapted  to  human 
nature  in  this  present  state  ;  and  we  shall  consult  our  im- 
provement infinitely  better  by  conforming  to  them,  than 
by  attempting  to  get  above  them,  and  disregarding  them. 
Besides,  the  bulk  of  mankind  will  never  be  in  that  high 
class  of  Christians  which  does  not  stand  in  need  of  the  usual 
modes  of  improvement ;  and,  in  whatever  rank  our  vanity 
may  lead  us  to  place  ourselves,  we  should  consider  how  our 
example  may  affect  them. 

You  may  think  that  you  can  employ  your  time  more  use- 
fully in  your  closet  than  you  can  do  in  the  church,  or  the 
meeting-house  ;  and  in  some  cases  no  doubt  you  may  ;  there 
being  no  general  rule  without  some  exceptions  ;  and  essential 
social  duties  may  well  occasionally  supersede  the  attendance 
on  public  worship.  But,  in  general,  I  am  well  persuaded 
that  a  man  cannot  spend  his  time  to  better  purpose  than  by 
setting  an  example  of  a  regard  to  the  forms  of  religion  to 
those  who  look  up  to  him  ,•  to  say  nothing  of  the  improve- 


SOCIAL    AND    PUBLIC    WORSHIP.  55 

ment  that  he  may  himself  receive  there,  if  he  give  due  atten- 
tion to  the  duties  of  the  place.  If  he  be  inattentive  to  them, 
he  may  feel  his  time  pass  irksomely  enough  ;  and,  as  far  as 
his  own  improvement  is  concerned,  it  might  have  been  bet- 
ter for  him  to  have  been  elsewhere  ;  but  the  same  objection 
will  lie  against  any  other  duty,  in  any  other  place. 

The  mind  is  improved  by  a  repetition  of  good  impressions. 
We  all  know  that  a  serious  turn  of  mind  is  acquired  by  read- 
ing serious  books,  and  by  serious  conversation ;  and  that 
levity  of  mind  is  acquired  by  impressions  of  an  opposite 
nature ;  and  if  every  person  be  the  better  for  hearing  a  good 
discourse,  on  a  moral  subject,  when  the  attention  is  not 
fatigued  by  the  length  of  it,  some  real  improvement  may 
be  had  from  a  repetition  of  the  same  sentiments  and  ideas 
expressed  in  the  form  of  a  prayer,  provided  that  be  not  too 
long. 

There  appear  to  me  to  be  unreasonable  complaints  of 
long  prayers,  when  pious  discourses,  of  much  greater  length, 
are  not  particularly  complained  of;  and  a  prayer  may  be 
considered  as  a  particular  mode  of  presenting  the  same  pious 
sentiments  to  the  mind,  so  that  the  hearer  of  it  may  be 
edified,  whether  he  join  in  it  so  as  to  make  it  his  own  prayer 
or  not.  If  this  exercise,  which  requires  a  considerable  effort 
of  the  mental  faculties,  be  omitted,  the  mind,  in  a  passive 
state,  will  still  be  subject  to  the  impression  of  useful  senti- 
ments, and  may   derive    considerable    advantages    from   the 

service. 

*  *  # 

It  is  even  wise  in  a  man  to  use  some  little  effort  with  him- 
self, and  not  to  desist  from  religious  exercises  on  the  first 
symptoms  of  weariness,  but  to  persevere  in  his  attention  to 
what  he  hears ;  and  this  is  no  more  than  we  are  obliged  to 
do  in  a  thousand  other  cases,  and  what  we  find  our  account 
in.  An  exercise  of  any  kind  that  is  tiresome  at  first  may 
not  only  cease  to  be  tiresome,  but  even  become  pleasant,  so 
that  we  cannot  well  do  without  it ;  and  if  it  be  omitted,  we 


56  SOCIAL    AND    PUBLIC    WORSHIP. 

shall  feel  a  vacuity  which  nothing  else  can  supply.  This 
will  be  equally  the  case  with  religious  exercises ;  and  is  it 
not  desirable  that  the  mind  be  brought  into  such  a  state  as 
not  only  to  bear,  but  to  relish,  religious  exercises  of  all 
kinds  ;  since  it  must  be  an  effectual  security  to  virtue  ?  We 
know  by  reading  and  observation,  that  some  persons  have 
been  able  to  relish  nothing  so  much.  Our  Saviour  could 
continue  a  whole  night  in  prayer  to  God  ;  and  the  apostle 
exhorts  us,  no  doubt  from  his  own  practice,  to  pray  without 
ceasing;  and,  allowing  for  strong  expressions,  there  must 
surely  be  some  meaning  in  such  language  as  this. 

If  we  discontinue  religious  exercises  in  public,  we  shall 
in  time  become  less  disposed  to  them  in  private,  and  be  in 
danger  of  losing  all  sense  of  habitual  devotion,  except  Avhat 
may  remain  from  former  good  impressions.  Habits  of  piety 
or  benevolence  require  not  only  to  be  formed,  but  to  be  kept 
up  and  invigorated  by  repeated  acts  ;  and  sure  I  am,  that 
this  habitual  devotion,  which  is  the  highest  attainment  of 
man,  and  the  most  perfective  of  his  rational  nature,  can  never 
be  acquired  or  kept  up  without  such  frequent  meditation  on 
subjects  of  religion,  reading  the  Scriptures,  and  actual  or 
virtual  prayer,  as  will  not  in  general  be  attained  without  the 
aid  of  public  worship,  in  which  the  attention  will  be  necessa- 
rily solicited  at  least  by  proper  objects  ;  where  the  Scriptures 
are  always  more  or  less  read,  where  proper  discourses  are 
delivered,  and  where  the  Supreme  Being  is  invoked,  and 
numbers  join  in  the  same  forms  of  adoration. 

In  all  matters  of  great  importance,  it  is  our  wisdom  not 
to  depend  wholly  on  voluntary  acts,  but  to  lay  ourselves 
under  a  kind  of  necessity  of  doing  tliat  which  is  only  ulti- 
mately, and  not  immediately  and  obviously  beneficial  to 
us.  If  a  young  person  had  nothing  of  the  nature  of  a  task 
imposed  upon  him,  he  would  hardly  be  brought  to  learn 
any  thing.  Before  he  could  be  brought  to  apply  from  free 
choice,  the  proper  season  of  acquiring  some  branches  of 
knowledge   would    be   past,    and   could   never   be   recalled. 


SOCIAL    AND    PUBLIC    WORSHIP.  57 

Now,  in  many  respects,  we  are  all  but  children  and  in  our 
noviciate,  and  we  shall  act  a  very  unwise  part,  if  we  leave 
those  practices  which  furnish  the  elements  of  religious  feel- 
ings and  habits,  to  our  own  arbitrary  pleasure.  In  this  case 
the  practice  will  often  be  neglected,  and,  consequently,  the 
habit  will  never  be  formed. 

It  is  happy  for  many  persons  that  the  force  of  custom 
operates  as  a  kind  of  law,  and  obliges  them  to  attend  to  acts 
of  public  and  private  devotion  from  their  early  years,  and 
even  through  the  whole  of  life.  By  this  means  they  are 
continually  kept  within  the  influence  of  good  impressions, 
the  silent  operation  of  which  is  unspeakably  beneficial  to 
them.  It  may  sometimes  subject  them  to  pass  an  hour  in 
a  manner  rather  unpleasant  to  them,  but  by  degrees  they 
become  reconciled  to  it;  so  that,  from  being  irksome,  it 
becomes  tolerable,  and  from  tolerable,  such  as,  whether 
positively  pleasurable  or  not,  they  do  not  know  how  to  do 
without.  However,  by  this  means  they  are  kept  out  of  the 
paths  of  vice,  and  in  the  practice  of  virtue. 

I  own  myself  to  be  so  far  from  Christian  perfection,  that 
I  think  myself  happy  in  such  a  necessary  mode  of  spending 
my  time,  especially  on  Sundays,  as  serves  to  keep  up  a 
constant  attention  to  my  situation  as  an  accountable  being, 
to  my  relation  to  God,  and  my  dependance  upon  him,  so 
that  I  cannot  be  long  without  being  reminded  of  my  destina- 
tion to  a  future  and  everlasting  state ;  as  by  this  means  I 
hope  I  am  more  in  the  way  of  acquiring  those  sentiments 
and  habits  which  will  qualify  me  for  it.  Let  others  fancy 
that  they  can  do  without  these  ordinary  helps  ;  I  cannot  but 
think  there  would  be  more  wisdom  in  a  greater  distrust  of 
themselves.     "  Happy  is  he  that  feareth  always." 


PRAYER  FOR  TEMPORAL  BLESSINGS. 


In  what  unqualified,  and  therefore  indecent,  manner,  some 
persons  may  pray  for  health,  or  for  any  thing  else,  I  cannot 
say,  and  therefore  cannot  defend.  But  that  health,  or  any 
other  temporal  blessing,  or  what  is  usually  deemed  such, 
may  be  very  innocently  prayed  for,  I  have  no  doubt,  if  we 
conduct  ourselves  by  scripture  precept  or  example.  Heze- 
kiah  prayed  most  earnestly  for  recovery  from  sickness,  that 
is,  for  health  and  life,  and  was  not  censured,  but  graciously 
heard.  David  both  prayed  and  gave  thanks  for  the  same 
blessing,  and  others  of  a  similar  nature ;  and  our  Lord 
authorizes  us  to  pray  for  our  daily  bread,  which  is  the  means 
of  supporting  health  and  life. 

If  the  mere  possibility  of  any  thing  being  no  blessing,  but 
a  curse  to  us,  be  a  reason  why  we  should  not  pray  for  it, 
such  is  our  ignorance,  that  we  ought  to  forbear  to  pray  for 
any  thing.  What  is  there  in  nature  that  is  absolutely,  and 
universally,  either  good  or  evil  1  Certainly  not  life  itself,  or 
any  thing  that  contributes  to  the  preservation  of  it.  Nay, 
as  we  ought,  in  strictness,  to  judge  of  moral  as  of  natural 
things,  can  any  person  be  absolutely  certain  that  he  shall 
not  be  ultimately  better,  as  Peter  probably  was,  for  falling 
by  any  particular  temptation  ?  Might  he  not,  therefore,  on 
this  principle,  question  the  propriety  of  our  Saviour's  direc- 
tion, to  pray  that  we  be  not  led  into  temptation  ?     Surely, 


PRAYER    FOR   TEMPORAL    BLESSINGS.  59 

then,  seeing  to  what  it  leads,  we  cannot  be  too  careful  how 
we  give  way  to  the  idea  of  aiming  at  a  degree  of  refinement 
and  perfection,  in  the  method  of  devotion,  unknown  to  Christ 
or  the  apostles,  so  as  to  think  ourselves  at  liberty  to  depart 
from  their  principles  and  practice. 

We  are  certainly  allowed  by  an  universal  and  most  indul- 
gent Parent,  who  knoweth  our  frame,  (and  the  practice  is 
abundantly  authorized  in  the  Scriptures,)  to  indulge  our  natu- 
ral wishes  for  whatever  appears  to  us  to  be  good  for  us  at 
the  time,  and  also  to  express  that  wish  in  the  form  of  a 
prayer  ;  but  always  with  due  submission  to  the  will  of  God, 
who  knows  better  than  we  do  what  is  really  good  for  us. 
Christ  even  prayed  to  be  excused  the  pains  of  a  violent  death, 
though  he  had  been  apprized  that  it  was  the  wise  intention 
of  God  that  he  should  submit  to  them,  and  was  prepared  so 
to  do.  To  pretend  to  greater  refinement  and  greater  strength 
of  mind  than  this,  is  unnatural.  We  only  deceive  and  injure 
ourselves  by  the  attempt. 


OSTENTATION  IN  RELIGION. 


You  think,  that  by  refusing  to  pray  in  public,  you  avoid 
ostentation,  which  is  certainly  a  bad  thing,  and  ought,  no 
doubt,  to  be  guarded  against.  But  an  apparent  indifference 
to  religion  is  another  bad  thing,  and  therefore  ought  likewise 
to  be  guarded  against ;  and  how  is  it  to  be  known  that  a 
man  is  devout  at  all,  if  no  person  ever  see,  or  know  him  to 
be  so  ?  To  avoid  ostentation  on  this  rigorous  idea,  not  only 
must  a  man  never  pray  out  of  his  closet,  but  be  careful  that 
it  be  not  known  that  he  prays,  even  there  ;  because  his 
retiring  for  that  purpose  will,  if  it  be  known,  have  the  same 
effect.  And  since  the  same  reason  requires  that  similar 
precautions  be  taken  with  respect  to  alms-giving,  and  every 
other  moral  virtue,  how  is  the  religious  man  to  be  distin- 
guished from  the  irreligious,  at  least  from  the  careless  and 
indifferent  ?  Is  no  man  ever  to  discover  any  zeal  for  religion, 
or  is  his  zeal  to  be  shown  in  words  only,  and  never  by  his 
actions,  lest  his  conduct  should  savor  of  ostentation  ? 

Our  Lord  absolutely  requires  of  his  disciples,  that  they 
should  confess  him  before  men ;  for  that,  otherwise,  he  will 
not  confess  or  acknowledge  them  before  his  heavenly  Father 
and  the  holy  angels.  But  how  is  this  to  be  done  upon  the 
plan  of  refraining  from  all  public  worship,  and  even  from 
celebrating  the  Lord's  Supper  ?  Is  there  to  be  no  outward 
badge  or  visible  token  of  a  man's  being  a  Christian  ?  Is  he 
to  wait  till  he  be  interrogated  on  the  subject?  The  primitive 
Christians  thought  and  acted  very  differently. 


OSTENTATION    IN    RELIGION.  61 

Ostentation  of  religion  is  not  the  vice  of  the  present  age. 
Mankind  in  general  are  verging  to  the  opposite  extreme. 
You  may  even  attend  to  the  whole  conversation  and  con- 
duct of  many  persons,  who  make  profession  of  Christianity, 
and  even  habitually  attend  public  worship,  and,  except  in 
that  single  circumstance,  you  would  not  be  able  to  discover 
whether  they  were  Christians  or  not.  How  much  more 
difficult,  then,  must  it  be  to  discover  the  Christianity  of 
the  man  who  does  not  attend  Christian  worship,  never  joining 
in  the  devotions  of  his  fellow-christians,  either  in  the  church, 
or  in  his  family  !  Ostentation  of  religion  has  existed  in  this 
country,  especially  among  the  Puritans  and  Dissenters ;  but 
there  are  few  traces  of  it  to  be  found  at  present.  The  pe- 
culiar practices  mentioned  with  ridicule  and  contempt  by 
Mr.  Wakefield,  (but  which  I  own  I  should  look  upon  with 
respect,)  I  never  heard  of  before.  Why,  then,  so  much  pre- 
caution against  a  vice  from  which  there  is  no  danger  ?  It  is 
like  directing  our  whole  force  to  the  defence  of  one  side  of  a 
fortress,  when  the  enemy  is  making  a  breach  at  the  opposite 
side. 

Let  us  consider  a  little  what  is  the  ground  of  this  so  much 
dreaded  ostentation.  It  is  a  man's  valuing  himself  on  some- 
thing that  is  uncommon  ;  not  on  doing  what  is  merely  proper 
in  itself,  and  simply  his  duty,  but  something  more  than  is 
expected  of  him.  But  is  this  the  case  with  respect  to  the 
homage  we  owe  our  Maker  ?  Why  should  it  be  deemed  a 
subject  of  ostentation  to  acknowledge  the  being  and  provi- 
dence of  God,  and  our  obligation  and  subjection  to  him?  Is 
this  a  thing  so  extraordinary  as  to  afford  just  cause  of  boast- 
ing ?  And  if  I  do  acknowledge  the  being  and  providence  of 
God,  and  should  not  be  ashamed  to  profess  it,  if  I  were  inter- 
rogated on  the  subject,  where  can  be  the  impropriety  of  doing 
it  in  the  most  public,  as  well  as  in  the  most  private  manner  ? 
If  I  wish,  as  I  think  I  ought  to  do,  that  my  belief,  and  corres- 
ponding practice,  should  be  known,  for  the  sake  of  any  influ- 
ence that  it  may  have  on  others,  am  I  not  under  obligation  to 


62  OSTENTATION    IN    RELIGION. 

do  it  in  public,  that  my  neighbours  and  the  world  may  know 
that  I  do  it?  David  thought  himself  bound  in  duty  to  do 
this  "  in  the  presence  of  all  the  people."  Daniel  was  not 
content  with  praying  in  secret  at  the  court  of  Babylon,  but 
chose  to  pray  in  such  a  manner  as  to  show  that  he  was  neither 
ashamed  nor  afraid  to  do  it ;  and  he  is  not  blamed  for  his 
ostentation  on  that  account. 

When  you  have  considered  with  attention  what  I  have 
advanced  in  these  Letters,  in  favor  of  public  worship,  I 
flatter  myself  you  will  be  convinced  of  the  reasonableness 
and  real  value  of  it ;  and  not  be  carried  away,  as  young 
persons  are  apt  to  be,  with  what  has  nothing  to  recommend 
it  besides  its  novelty,  seeming  liberality,  and  remoteness 
from  vulgar  prejudice.  Be  especially  upon  your  guard 
against  that  dislike  of  restraint  which  is  peculiarly  incident 
to  youth,  and  suspect  yourself,  and  suspend  your  determi- 
nations, when  the  experience  of  mankind  is  against  you. 
An  institution  recommended  by  the  constant  observance  of 
all  acres  and  all  nations,  and  especially  all  Christians,  and 
which  has  never  been  objected  to  before  yesterday,  will 
probably  be  found  to  have  serious  uses,  and  certainly  should 
not  be  abandoned  till  after  a  very  deliberate  examination. 


FAMILY  WORSHIP. 


Family  prayer,  if  not  of  absolute  necessity,  is  of  great  use 
in  all  Christian  families.  Dr.  Hartley,  one  of  the  most  ju- 
dicious, as  well  as  most  pious  of  men,  says,  "  I  believe  it  may 
be  laid  down  as  a  certain  fact,  that  no  master  or  mistress  of 
a  family  can  have  a  true  concern  for  religion,  or  be  a  chUd 
of  God,  who  does  not  take  care  to  worship  by  family  prayer. 
Let  the  observation  of  the  fact  determine."  I  would  not 
choose  to  express  myself  quite  in  this  manner,  since  much 
must  be  allowed  for  the  different  circumstances  of  families  ; 
but  thus  much  may  certainly  be  said  with  truth,  —  that  if  the 
practice  of  family  prayer,  or  any  other  mode  in  which  we  give 
evidence  to  the  world  that  we  are  Christians,  be  forborne 
through  shame,  or  a  com.pliance  with  the  modes  of  the  world, 
we  have  no  just  claim  to  the  title  and  privilege  of  Christians, 
but  fall  under  the  awful  sentence  of  Christ,  "  Whosoever 
shall  be  ashamed  of  me,  and  of  my  words,  in  this  —  genera- 
tion, of  him  will  the  Son  of  Man  be  ashamed,  when  he  cometh 
in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  with  the  holy  angels." 

Every  practice  by  which  we  declare  our  belief  of  Chris- 
tianity, such  as  attending  Christian  worship,  receiving  the 
Lord's  Supper,  or  performing  any  other  acknowledged  Chris- 
tian duty,  tends  to  strengthen  our  faith,  to  inspire  the  pro- 
per spirit  of  the  profession,  and  secure  the  performance  of 
every  duty  which  it  enjoins  ;  and,  therefore,  should  by  no 
means  be  neglected  by  us. 


64  FAMILY    WORSHIP. 

Thus  should  we  be  urgent,  even  to  exhort  one  another,  and 
all  should  gladly  and  thankfully  receive  "  the  word  of  exhort- 
ation ;  "  to  "  be  steadfast,  unmoveable,  always  abounding  in 
the  work  of  the  Lord,  knowing  that  our  labor  will  not  be  in 
vain  in  the  Lord." 

The  author  of  this  epistle  says,  We  should  exhort  one 
another  "  so  much  the  more  as  we  see  the  day  "  (meaning, 
no  doubt,  the  great  day,  or  the  second  coming  of  Christ) 
"approaching."  If  this  motive  had  weight  in  the  times  of 
the  apostles,  it  must  have  more  now  ;  since  that  great  day, 
which  will  "  try  every  man's  work  of  what  sort  it  is,"  must 
be  nearer  than  it  was  then  ;  and  though  this  time  was  not 
known  to  our  Lord  himself,  but  only  the  signs  of  its  approach, 
many  intelligent  Christians,  who  are  attentive  to  the  signs  of 
the  times,  are  of  opinion  that  it  cannot  now  be  far  distant, 
and  may  be  expected  even  in  the  present  generation.  But 
since  the  coming  is  certain,  though  the  time  be  uncertain, 
let  us  be  ready,  that,  when  our  Lord  shall  return  and  take 
account  of  his  servants,  we  may  be  found  without  spot,  and 
not  be  ashamed  before  him  at  his  coming. 


OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAY. 


If  one  day  in  seven  be  appointed  to  be  a  season  of  rest 
from  labor,  and  for  serious  recollection  of  mind,  by  that 
Being  who  has  made  us  capable  both  of  labor  and  of  reflec- 
tion, let  us  conscientiously  appropriate  this,  as  well  as  every 
other  portion  of  our  time,  to  the  use  for  which  it  was  in- 
tended, and  for  which,  we  may  therefore  presume,  it  is  really 
wanted  ;  and  let  us  not,  out  of  too  great  a  dread  of  supersti- 
tion (wliich  ought  certainly  to  be  guarded  against,  in  this  as 
well  as  in  every  thing  else),  pass  into  the  contrary  extreme, 
of  a  gross  abuse  of  a  divine  ordinance,  and  a  scandalous 
licentiousness  of  conduct. 

Works  of  necessity  and  mercy  are  allowed  to  be  a  sufficient 
reason  for  setting  aside  the  distinction  of  the  Lord's  day  from 
the  rest ;  but  that  journey,  for  instance,  cannot  be  said  to 
be  necessary,  for  which  nothing  but  convenience  can  be 
pleaded ;  neither  can  it  be  necessary  to  confine  yourselves 
at  home  by  taking  a  medicine  on  that  day,  when  your  health 
would  not  suffer  by  its  being  taken  on  the  day  before,  or 
the  day  after.  Also  a  cold,  or  other  slight  indisposition,  is 
with  a  very  ill  grace  pleaded  as  an  excuse  for  absence  from 
public  worship,  by  those  who  are  known  to  run  much  greater 
risks  on  other  accounts.  I  wish  it  were  merely  a  matter  of 
doubt,  whether,  in  many  cases,  the  plea  of  necessity  be  justly 
alleged,  and  that  it  could  be  supposed  that  persons  acted 
according  to  their  judgments,  though  biassed  by  their  in- 
clinations. But,  alas !  so  generally,  and  so  manifestly,  is 
business  of  a  nature  altogether  foreign  to  the  proper  desigri 
5 


66  OBSERVANCE    OF    THE    LORd's    DAY. 

of  the  Lord's  day  thrown  into  it,  by  many  persons,  that  it 
cannot  be  accounted  for  but  by  supposing  it  to  be  the  effect 
of  particular  design  and  contrivance  ;  which,  being  a  wilful 
neglect  of  an  acknowledged  duty,  certainly  argues  a  want  of 
the  fear  of  God,  and  the  absence  of  religious  principle, 
properly  so  called. 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 


The  Lord's  supper,  consisting  of  eating  bread,  and  drink- 
ing wine,  is  a  religious  rile  instituted  by  Christ,  in  com- 
memoration of  his  death  ;  the  breaking  of  the  bread,  more 
especially  representing  the  wounding  of  the  body  of  Christ, 
and  the  pouring  out  of  the  wine  the  shedding  of  his  blood  ; 
and  this  rite  is  to  continue  to  be  celebrated  by  the  disciples 
of  Christ  till  his  second  coming. 

The  design  of  this  institution  being  to  serve  as  a  memo~ 
rial,  or  record,  of  that  important  fact  of  the  death  of  Christ, 
it  may  be  considered  as  one  monument  of  the  truth  of  the 
Christian  religion,  as  was  observed  in  a  preceding  part  of 
this  work. 

Being  more  especially  a  memorial  of  the  death  of  Christ, 
in  which  he  chiefly  manifested  the  love  that  he  bore  to  man- 
kind, it  furnishes  the  most  proper  opportunity  of  recollect- 
ing the  love  of  Christ,  and  rejoicing  in  the  consideration  of 
the  blessings  of  his  gospel. 

Since  this  rite  is  peculiar  to  Christians,  it  likewise  serves 
as  a  public  declaration  of  our  being  Christians  ;  and  is,  con- 
sequently, a  recognising  of  the  obligation  we  are  under  to 
live  as  becomes  Christians :  for  no  man  can  say  that  he  is  a 
Christian,  and  especially  in  a  public  and  solemn  manner, 
without  acknowledging  that  he  is  obliged  to  live  as  becomes 
a  Christian.  Joining  habitually  in  public  worship,  implies 
very  much  the  same  thing. 

Lastly,  as,  in  this  rite,  we  more  especially  commemorate 
the  death  of  Christ,  it  serves  to  remind  us,  that  we  are  the 


68  THE  lord's  supper. 

professed  disciples  of  a  crucified  Master;  and,  therefore, 
must  not  expect  better  treatment  from  tliis  world  than  our 
Lord  met  with  from  it :  that  we  must  lay  our  account  with 
meeting  with  hardships,  reproach,  and  persecution,  as  i:e  did, 
and  that  we  should  contentedly  and  patiently  bear  them, 
rather  than  quit  the  profession  of  our  faith,  or  do  any  thing 
unworthy  of  it;  in  full  assurance  that,  if  "we  suffer"  v/ith 
Christ,  "  we  shall  also  reign  with  him,"  and  "  be  glorified 
together." 

This  rite  having  such  excellent  moral  uses,  and  the  cele- 
bration of  it  being  an  express  command  of  Christ,  who  said, 
"  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me,"  I  do  not  see  how  any 
person,  professing  Christianity,  can  satisfy  himself  with 
refusing  to  join  in  it.  In  the  primitive  times,  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  Lord's  supper  made  a  part  of  the  ordinary  service 
every  Lord's  day,  and  every  person  who  was  thought  worthy 
to  be  considered  as  a  member  of  a  body  of  Christians  par- 
took of  it.  Whenever,  indeed,  any  person  professing  Chris- 
tianity behaved  in  a  manner  unworthy  of  the  Christian 
name,  so  as  to  be  in  danger  of  bringing  a  reproach  upon  it, 
he  was  excommunicated  ;  in  consequence  of  which,  he  was 
cut  off  from  joining  in  any  part  of  Christian  worship,  and 
from  this  among  the  rest ;  but  there  was  no  distinction  made 
between  this  and  other  parts  of  the  service,  especially  the 
prayers  of  the  church.  An  excommunicated  person  was 
one  who  was  publicly  declared  not  to  belong  to  a  Christian 
society  :  and,  therefore,  the  church  would  not  consent  to 
any  thing  that  should  imply  their  acknowledging  him  in  the 
character  of  a  brother,  and  declined  associating  with  him. 
The  reason  of  this  conduct  was  most  evident ;  because  the 
o-ood  name  of  Christians,  and  of  Christian  societies,  was  a 
thing  of  the  greatest  consequence  to  the  propagation  of 
Christianity  in  those  early  times ;  and  it  ought  to  be  con-' 
sidercd,  at  all  times,  as  a  matter  of  great  consequence. 

Considering  that  Christ  absolutely  requires  of  all  his  dis- 
ciples the  most  jopen  and  public  profession  of  his  religion, 


THE    LORD  S    SUPPER.  Oy 

notwithstanding  all  the  hazards  to  which  it  may  expose 
them,  and  has  declared,  that  unless  we  "  confess  him  before 
men,"  he  will  not  acknowledge  us  before  his  heavenly 
Father;  it  certainly  behoves  all  Christians  to  take  this,  as 
well  as  every  other  method,  of  declaring,  in  a  public  manner, 
their  profession  of  Christianity.  Moreover,  as  baptism  is 
generally  administered  in  infancy,  and  is  not  the  act  of  the 
person  baptized,  it  seems  necessary  that  there  should  be 
some  public  act,  by  which  those  who  are  baptized  in  their 
infancy  should  openly,  and  in  their  own  persons,  declare 
themselves  Christians ;  and  the  most  proper  manner  of  doing 
this  is  certainly  the  receiving  of  the  Lord's  supper. 

According  to  the  custom  of  the  primitive  church,  a  cus- 
tom so  ancient  and  uncontroverted,  as,  with  me,  to  carry 
sufficient  evidence  of  its  having  been  an  apostolical  one,  all 
persons  who  are  baptized,  children  as  well  as  others,  should 
receive  the  Lord's  supper.  It  is  nothing  less  than  the 
revival  of  this  custom  that  will  secure  a  general  attendance 
upon  this  ordinance  ;  and  no  objection  can  be  made  to  it, 
except  what  may,  with  equal  strength,  be  made  to  bringing 
children  to  public  worship  at  all,  since  they  are  as  incapable 
of  understanding  the  one  as  the  other.  Nor  would  this 
ancient  and  useful  custom  have  been  ever  laid  aside,  if  it 
had  not  been  for  the  introduction  of  a  train  of  .superstitious 
notions,  which  made  this  plain  and  simple  ordinance  appear 
continually  more  mysterious  and  awful;  till,  at  length,  the 
monstrous  doctrine  of  transubstantiation  was  completely  es- 
tablished. 

Indeed,  it  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  that  the  custom  of 
giving  the  eucharist  to  children,  was  not  finally  abolished  in 
any  place  till  that  doctrine  had  obtained  the  full  sanction  of 
the  church  of  Rome  ;  and  that  it  maintains  its  ground  to 
this  very  day,  in  all  those  Christian  churches  which  were 
never  subject  to  that  anti-christian  power,  whose  spiritual 
usurpations  and  corruptions  of  the  gospel  have  been  immense, 
and   have  extended  to   almost  every  thing  belonging  to  it. 


70  THE    lord's    supper. 

Such,  and  so  simple,  is  the  Christian  rite  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  For  surely,  then,  all  who  have  any  value  for  Chris- 
tianity will  attend  upon  it,  as  wearing  the  proper  badge  of 
their  profession.  Be  the  moral  use  of  this  rite  more  or  less, 
or  even  nothing  at  all,  yet  that  it  was  appointed  to  be  ob- 
served by  one  who  had  a  right  to  appoint  it,  viz.  the  Founder 
of  our  faith,  cannot  be  questioned. 

One  reason  why  it  is  so  much  neglected,  is  evidently  an 
indifference  to  Christianity,  in  consequence  of  which  none 
of  its  ordinances  will  be  attended  upon,  any  farther  than 
public  decency  requires.  But  with  many  this  neglect  is 
owing  to  a  secret  superstition,  as  if  there  was  something 
peculiarly  hazardous  in  attending  upon  it  unworthily  in  con- 
sequence of  the  apostle  Paul  saying,  in  his  account  of  it, 
that  such  Avould  receive  judgment  to  themselves ;  (for  so  it 
ought  to  be  rendered,  and  not  damnation,  as  in  our  version.) 
But  from  his  account  of  the  irregularities  of  the  Corinthians 
in  their  celebration  of  this  ordinance,  it  is  evident  that  by 
unworthily  he  meant  improperly ,  not  distinguishing  it  from 
a  common  entertainment ;  and  that  by  judgment  he  either 
simply  meant  censure,  or  some  temporal  judgment,  with  which 
he  supposed  that  they  were  visited  on  that  account.  It  has 
no  reference  whatever  to  the  state  of  man  after  death.  Our 
only  danger  arises  from  professing  Christianity  itself,  without 
living  as  becomes  Christians  ;  and  this  obligation  affects  all 
who  will  call  themselves  Christians,  whether  they  attend  to 
this  particular  ordinance  or  not. 


STUDY  OF  THE  SCRIPTURES. 


It  will  be  inquired  by  what  means  the  influence  of  the 
world  can  be  counteracted,  or  by  what  means  a  due  attention 
to  Christian  principles  can  be  well  secured.  I  answer,  the 
principal  means  to  effect  this  great  purpose,  and  one  that 
will  naturally  lead  to  every  other,  is  a  familiar  acquaintance 
with  the  Scriptures.  The  zealous  Christian  will  make  these 
books  his  constant  companions.  With  the  pious  Psalmist, 
"  his  delight  will  be  in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  in  his  law 
will  he  meditate  day  and  night." 

Be  assured  that  in  reading  the  Scriptures  ever  so  often, 
you  will  always  find  something  new  and  interesting.  Many 
difficulties  you  will,  no  doubt,  meet  with,  as  may  be  ex- 
pected in  books  of  such  great  antiquity,  written,  many  of 
them,  in  a  language  which  is  but  imperfectly  understood, 
and  abounding  with  allusions  to  customs,  with  which  we, 
in  this  part  of  the  world,  are  unacquainted,  and  which,  being 
in  many  respects  the  reverse  of  ours,  will  of  course  appear 
unnatural.  But  new  light  is  thrown  upon  things  of  this 
nature  every  day.  Many  difficulties  are  already  cleared  up 
in  the  most  satisfactory  manner  ;  and  in  the  mean  time  every 
thing  of  this  nature  may  be  safely  neglected,  or  referred  to 
farther  consideration,  especially  if  you  read  for  the  purpose 
of  moral  improvement ;  the  greatest  part  of  the  Bible  being 
perfectly  intelligible  to  every  capacity,  and  in  the  highest 
degree  useful  and  edifying. 

A  familiar  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures  will  preserve 
upon  the  mind  a  lively  sense  of  God  and  his  moral  govern- 


72 


STUDY    OF    THE    SCRIPTURES. 


ment.  It  will  continually  bring  into  view,  and  give  you  a 
habit  of  contemplating  the  great  plan  of  providence,  respect- 
ing the  designs  of  God  in  the  creation  of  man,  and  his  ulti- 
mate destination.  You  will  by  this  means  have  a  clearer 
view  of  the  Divine  wisdom  and  goodness  in  the  government 
of  the  world,  even  in  the  most  calamitous  events,  as  in  the 
corruption  of  true  religion,  as  well  as  in  the  reformation  of 
it.  You  will  perceive  signs  of  order  in  the  present  seem- 
ingly disordered  state  of  things,  and  will  rejoice  in  the  pros- 
pect of  the  glorious  completion  of  the  scheme,  in  universal 
virtue  and  universal  happiness.  Such  views  of  things  as 
these,  which  will  be  perpetually  suggested  by  the  reading  of 
the  Scriptures,  have  the  greatest  tendency  to  ennoble  and 
enlarge  the  mind,  to  raise  our  thoughts  and  affections  above 
the  low  pursuits  which  wholly  occupy  and  distract  the  minds 
of  the  bulk  of  mankind  ;  they  will  inspire  a  most  delightful 
serenity  in  the  midst  of  the  cares  and  troubles  of  life,  and 
impart  a  joy  which  the  world  can  neither  give  nor  take  away. 

If,  however,  notwithstanding  these  recommendations,  the 
Scriptures,  and  other  works  illustrative  of  their  contents, 
have  not  engaged  the  attention,  it  behoves  every  person  who 
really  wishes  to  imbibe  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  to  make 
himself  well  acquainted  with  them,  and  to  persist  in  the 
reading  and  study  of  them,  till  he  finds  himself  interested  in 
their  contents,  and  imbibe  the  pious  and  benevolent  temper 
which  is  so  conspicuous  in  the  writers.  And  how  irksome 
soever,  through  disuse  and  other  causes,  the  readino-  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  of  other  books  which  have  the  same  ten- 
dency, may  for  some  time  be,  perseverance  will  overcome 
it ;  and  then,  if  I  may  speak  from  experience,  no  reading 
will  be  so  interesting  or  pleasing,  and  the  satisfaction  will 
increase  with  every  fresh  perusal. 

This  circumstance  enables  us  to  account  for  the  peculiar 
pleasure  that  David  and  other  pious  Jews  appear  to  have 
derived  from  reading  the  Scriptures.  They  had  few  other 
books ;  so  that  if  they  read  at  all,  they  must  have  read  them 


STUDY    OF    THE    SCRIPTURES. 


73 


perpetually  in  their  own  houses,  as  well  as  have  heard  them 
constantly  read  in  the  synagogues,  from  the  time  that  they 
had  such  places  of  public  worship,  which  they  certainly  had 
from  the  time  of  the  Babylonish  Captivity.  At  this  day, 
there  are  so  many  other  books  to  engage  the  attention,  that, 
in  too  many  cases,  they  totally  exclude  the  reading  of  that 
which  is  of  infinitely  more  value  than  all  the  rest. 

But  whatever  be  the  leisure  that  any  person  can  command 
for  reading,  some  portion  of  it  should  by  all  means  be  appro- 
priated to  that  kind  of  reading,  the  object  of  which  is  to 
increase  the  knowledge  which  relates  to  our  profession  as 
Christians.  And  this  will  lead  to  a  course  of  reading  both 
curious  and  interesting,  especially  such  as  makes  us  ac- 
quainted with  the  progress  of  Christianity  in  the  world.  No 
kind  of  reading  tends  so  much  to  counteract  the  influence 
of  the  world  and  its  principles  as  the  lives  of  eminent  Chris- 
tians ;  and  most  of  all,  the  martyrs,  whose  piety,  patience, 
and  fortitude,  in  cheerfully  abandoning  life  and  every  thing 
in  it,  for  the  sake  of  conscience,  cannot  fail  to  inspire  some- 
thing of  the  same  excellent  spirit ;  and  this  once  fully  im- 
bibed, will  enable  a  man  to  behave  as  becomes  a  Christian 
in  every  situation,  of  prosperity  as  well  as  of  adversity,  in 
life  or  in  death. 

Compared  to  the  strong  feelings  with  which  such  works 
as  these  are  read  by  persons  who  have  acquired  a  true  relish 
for  them,  all  other  reading  is  perfectly  insipid ;  and  a  truly 
pious  Christian,  who  has  few  books  beside  the  Bible,  has 
little  cause  to  envy  the  man  of  letters,  in  whose  ample 
library  the  Bible  is  not  to  be  found.  What  is  there  of 
pathetic  address  in  all  the  writings  of  the  admired  ancients, 
compared  to  the  Book  of  Deuteronomy  by  IMoses  ?  And 
what  is  all  their  poetry,  compared  to  the  Psalms  of  David, 
and  some  parts  of  Isaiah?  And  yet,  such  is  the  power  of 
association  and  habit,  that,  by  persons  of  a  different  educa- 
tion and  turn  of  mind,  those  parts  of  Scripture  which  are 
by  some  read  with  emotions  of  the  most  exalted  and  pleas- 


74  STUDY    OF    THE    SCRIPTURES. 

urable  kind,  will  be  perused  with  perfect  indifference,  and 
even  disgust :  and  if  such  persons  be  advanced  in  life,  so 
that  their  habits  are  confirmed,  the  endeavour  to  communi- 
cate to  them  a  relish  for  such  writings,  will  be  altogether  in 
vain.  Of  such  persons  we  may  say  with  Bacon's  brazen 
statue,  Time  is  past. 

So  strongly  is  my  mind  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  im- 
portance of  the  habitual  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  both  from 
considering  the  nature  of  the  thing,  and  from  the  best  atten- 
tion that  I  have  been  able  to  give  to  particular  characters 
and  facts  ;  that  I  do  not  see  how  those  persons  who  neglect 
it,  and  who  have  no  satisfaction  in  habitually  meditating  on 
the  infinitely  important  subjects  to  which  they  relate,  can 
be  said  to  have  any  thing  of  Christianity  besides  the  name. 
They  cannot  feel  the  influence  of  its  doctrines,  its  precepts, 
or  its  motives,  when  they  give  no  attention  to  them  ;  and, 
therefore  they  cannot  derive  any  advantage  from  Christi- 
anity, except  such  as  accrues  to  all  the  nominally  Christian- 
ized part  of  the  world,  in  improving  the  general  character, 
manners  and  customs  of  it ;  but  which,  as  it  has  not  arisen 
from  any  attention  that  they  have  given  to  it,  cannot  entitle 
them  to  the  character  or  rewards  of  true  Christians;  such  as 
those  who  have  lived  as  pilgrims  and  strangers  here  below, 
and  as  citizens  of  heaven  ;  who,  though  living  in  the  world, 
have  had  their  affections  on  things  above ;  whose  treasure, 
the  object  of  their  chief  care  and  pursuit,  has  been  not  in 
the  things  of  this  world,  but  in  heaven.  They  may  not  be 
rejected  by  Christ  as  workers  of  iniquity,  but  they  have  no 
title  to  the  appellation  of  good  and  faithful  servants  to  a 
Master  whom  they  have  never  truly  loved  or  respected,  and 
hardly  even  thought  of;  and,  therefore,  cannot  expect  to 
partake  in  the  joy  of  their  Lord. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER. 


He  only  is  justly  entitled  to  the  honorable  appellation  of  a 
Christian  who  postpones  every  thing  else  to  it,  and  who  sets 
no  value  upon  any  thing  else  when  set  in  competition  with  it. 
Whether  this  be  our  case,  will  appear  by  the  share  that 
Christianity  has  in  our  thoughts.  Whatever  it  be  that  a  man 
chiefly  values,  he  oftenest  thinks  of;  and  if  his  attention  be 
called  off  to  other  things,  it  will  be  detained  no  longer  than 
is  necessary.  His  favorite  object,  whatever  it  be,  will  per- 
petually recur  to  his  mind,  and  it  will  not  be  in  the  power  of 
any  thing  to  exclude  it  long. 

We  may  judge  of  this  by  the  attention  which  men  of  the 
world  give  to  riches  in  general,  or  to  any  particular  estate 
they  may  wish  to  purchase,  or  by  the  attention  which  a  per- 
son of  a  scientific  turn  of  mind  gives  to  his  favorite  objects, 
whether  it  be  collecting  what  he  thinks  curious,  or  investi- 
gating what  he  thinks  important ;  it  will  chiefly  occupy  his 
thoughts.  Now  a  Christian  may  attend  to  these  things,  and 
many  others,  (for  the  occasions  and  business  of  life  are  vari- 
ous, and  no  one  object,  though  the  greatest,  can  possess  the 
mind  always,)  but  with  him  every  thing  of  this  kind,  and  the 
world  itself,  which  contains  them  all,  will  be  of  no  more  than 
secondary  consideration.  They  occupy  and  amuse  him  for 
a  time,  but  he  abandons  them  without  regret  when  his  more 
favorite  business  and  pleasure  call  him.  So  much  was  the 
mind  of  pious  David  occupied  with  a  sense  of  God,  his  pro- 
vidence, and  religion  in  general,  that  he  says  the  law  of  God 


76 


THE  CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER. 


was  his  meditation  day  and  night ;  and  he  frequently  men- 
tions the  pleasure  he  took  in  thinking  of  God  in  the  night 
watches,  whenever  he  could  not  sleep.  Till  this  be  our  case, 
we  cannot  be  said  to  have  attained  a  proper  habitual  devotion. 

Now,  such  is  the  unavoidable  influence  of  the  world 
around  us,  that  this  state  of  mind  is  not  to  be  attained  with- 
out many  efforts,  or  a  course  of  discipline,  in  which  the  mind 
must  be  at  first  constrained  to  look  off  from  the  things  of 
time  to  those  of  eternity.  But  repeated  acts  will  at  length 
beget  any  habit.  And  when,  by  this  means,  we  shall  come 
habitually  to  set  our  affections  on  things  above,  where  Christ 
is  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  our  most  pleasing  meditations, 
the  subjects  to  which  our  minds  will  naturally  revert  when 
no  other  shall  be  particularly  pressing  for  attention,  will  be 
those  v;hich  relate  to  religion.  Something  concerning  God, 
or  concerning  Christ  and  the  gospel,  will  first  present  them- 
selves, and  be  uppermost  in  our  thoughts  ;  and  whenever 
they  are  diverted  to  other  objects  (which  is  unavoidably  the 
case  in  the  usual  business  and  commerce  of  the  world,)  they 
will  recur  with  double  strength  and  pleasure.  It  Avill  be  like 
the  sight  of  a  friend  after  a  short  absence. 

Indeed,  we  make  quicker  advances  in  the  divine  life,  as  it 
may  properly  be  called,  by  means  of  these  intervals,  in  which 
the  mind  is  occupied  by  the  cares,  or  even  the  innocent 
pleasures,  of  life,  than  when  we  endeavour  always  to  preserve 
a  frame  of  direct  devotion  :  for  then,  like  the  perpetual  pre- 
sence of  the  nearest  friend,  it  would  become  dull  and  insipid. 
That  generous,  invigorating  ardor,  which  is  experienced  by 
men  of  true  piety,  who  mix  with  the  world  and  exert  them- 
selves to  be  useful  in  it,  is  unknown  to  the  professed  devotee, 
who  abstracts  himself  from  the  world,  in  order,  as  he  thinks, 
to  give  himself  wholly  to  God.  This  frame  of  fervent  devo- 
tion advances  like  the  tide  in  the  ocean,  with  intervals  of 
recess  between  each  flow.  In  this,  I  am  confident,  that  I 
speak  to  the  experience  of  all  who  cultivate  a  habit  of  devo- 
tion, and  who  attend  to  their  own  feelings. 


THE  NOMIiNAL  CHRISTIAN. 


The  real  difference  between  a  merely  nominal  believer 
and  an  unbeliever  is  very  small,  and  of  little  consequence, 
compared  to  the  difference  between  the  merely  nominal  and 
the  real  Christian.  What  are  the  generality  of  Christians,  in 
what  are  called  Christian  countries?  They  are,  in  fact, 
persons  who  mind  nothing  but  their  business,  or  their  pleas- 
ure, without  giving  any  attention  to  the  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity at  all.  It  is  by  no  means  the  subject  of  their  daily 
thoughts,  it  supplies  no  motives  to  their  actions,  it  contributes 
nothing  to  moderate  their  joys,  or  to  alleviate  their  sorrows. 
It  neither  enables  them  to  bear  the  troubles  of  life,  nor  does 
it  give  them  any  solid  hope  in  death.  Whereas  the  real 
Christian,  as  the  apostle  says,  "  rejoices  as  though  he  rejoiced 
not  and  weeps  as  though  he  wept  not,  because  the  fashion  of 
this  world  passeth  away,"  and  the  Lord  is  at  hand.  He  is 
ever  "  looking  to  that  blessed  hope,  even  the  glorious  appear- 
ing of  the  great  God,  and  his  Saviour  Jesus  Christ;  "  and  has 
peace  and  joy  in  believing. 

Christianity  is  less  to  be  considered  as  a  system  of  opinions, 
than  a  rule  of  life.  But  of  what  signification  is  a  rule,  if  it 
be  not  complied  with?  All  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  have 
for  their  object  Christian  morals,  which  are  no  other  than  the 
well-known  duties  of  life  ;  and  the  advantage  we  derive  from 
this  religion  is,  that  the  principles  of  it  assist  us  in  maintain- 
ing that  steady  regard  to  the  providence  and  moral  govern- 
ment of  God,  and  to  a  future  state,  which  facilitates  and  en- 
sures the  practice  of  those  duties ;    inspiring  greater  piety 


78  THE  NOMINAL  CHRISTIANS. 

towards  God,  greater  benevolence  to  man,  and  that  heavenly 
mindedness  which  raises  the  heart  and  affections  above  those 
mean  and  low  pursuits  which  are  the  source  of  almost  all 
vices.  But  Christian  principles  not  reflected  upon  or  attended 
to,  cannot  be  accompanied  with  any  advantage  of  this  kind  ; 
and  better,  surely,  were  it  to  make  no  profession  of  any  prin- 
ciples, than  to  live  without  a  due  regard  to  them.  Better, 
therefore,  were  it  for  any  person  to  be  an  unbeliever  in  Chris- 
tianity, than  to  be  a  Christian,  and  live  as  if  he  had  not  been 
one.  He  deprives  himself  of  all  apology  or  excuse  for  his 
bad  conduct.  And  it  would,  I  fear,  be  happy  for  thousands 
of  professing  Christians,  if  they  had  been  born  and  lived 
among  heathens. 

We  cannot  too  much  impress  upon  our  minds,  that  religion 
of  any  kind  is  only  a  mean  to  a  certain  end,  and  that  this  end 
is  good  conduct  in  life.  Consequently,  if  this  end  be  not 
attained,  we  not  only  lose  the  advantage  of  the  means,  or 
instrument,  of  which  we  were  possessed,  but  are  chargeable 
with  the  guilt  of  such  neglect,  are  guilty  of  an  ungrateful 
contempt  of  the  means  that  were  afforded  us  for  the  greatest 
and  best  of  purposes ;  and  can  we  expect  that  this  will  go 
unpunished  1 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IN  THE  WORLD. 


Christianity  does  not  operate  as  a  charm.  The  use  of  it 
does  not  resemble  that  of  a  badge,  or  a  certificate,  to  entitle 
a  man  to  any  privilege.  It  is  of  no  use  but  so  far  as  it  enters 
into  the  sentiments,  contributes  to  form  the  habits,  and  directs 
the  conduct  of  men ;  and  to  do  this,  it  must  really  occupy 
the  mind,  and  engage  its  closest  attention  :  so  that  the  max- 
ims of  it  may  instantly  occur  the  moment  that  they  are  called 
for  ;  and  therefore  in  whatever  it  be  that  the  true  Christian 
and  the  mere  man  of  the  world  really  differ,  the  difference 
could  not  fail  to  appear.  If  there  was  any  gratification  or 
pursuit,  that  did  not  suit  the  Christian  character,  though  oth- 
ers might  indulge  in  it  without  scruple,  and  despise  all  who 
did  not ;  the  true  Christian  would  be  unmoved  by  such  ex- 
amples, or  such  ridicule.  His  habitual  fear  of  God,  and  his 
respect  for  the  commands  of  Christ,  would  at  all  times  render 
him  superior  to  any  such  influence.  Whatever  his  Christian 
principles  called  him  to  do,  or  to  suffer,  he  would  be  at  all 
times  ready  to  obey  the  call. 

For  any  principles  to  have  their  practical  influence,  they 
must  at  least  be  familiar  to  the  mind,  and  this  they  cannot  be 
unless  they  be  voluntarily  cherished  there,  and  be  dwelt 
upon  with  pleasure,  when  other  objects  do  not  necessarily 
obtrude  themselves.  Consider,  then,  how  many  objects  are 
perpetually  occupying  the  minds  of  men  in  the  present  state 
of  things  in  the  Christian  world,  and  how  forcible  their  hold 
is  upon  them,  and  consequently,  how  difficult  it  must  be  to 
prevent  their  all-prevailing  influence,  to  the  exclusion  of  that 
of  Christianity. 


80  THE  CHRISTIAN  IN  THE  WORLD, 

The  age  in  which  we  live,  more  than  any  that  have  pre- 
ceded it,  may  be  said  to  be  the  age  of  trade  and  commerce. 
Great  wealth  is  chiefly  to  be  acquired  by  this  means.  It  is, 
at  least,  the  most  expeditious  way  of  acquiring  a  fortune,  with 
any  regard  to  the  principles  of  honor  and  honesty.  But  to 
succeed  to  any  great  extent  in  mercantile  business  of  any 
kind,  especially  now  that  such  numbers  of  active  and  sensi- 
ble men  are  engaged  in  the  same,  a  man  must  give  almost 
his  whole  attention  to  it,  so  that  there  will  be  little  room  for 
any  thing  else  to  occupy  his  mind.  If  he  do  not  literally,  in 
the  language  of  Scripture  "  rise  up  early,"  and  "  sit  up  late," 
it  will  occupy  his  thoughts  when  his  head  is  upon  his  pillow. 
His  anxiety  will  often  keep  him  awake.  Even  at  that  season 
of  rest  he  will  be  considering  whether  it  will  be  prudent  to 
make  this  or  that  purchase,  whether  this  or  that  man  may  be 
safely  trusted,  whether  there  will  not  be  too  much  hazard  in 
this  or  that  undertaking,  and  a  thousand  things  of  this  nature. 

If  such  a  person's  business  allow  him  any  leisure  he  is 
fatigued,  and  wants  amusement,  and  cannot  bear  any  thing 
that  makes  him  serious.  He  therefore  engages  in  parties  of 
pleasure,  and  various  entertainments,  that,  even  more  than 
business,  exclude  all  thoughts  of  religion.  And  in  this  course 
of  alternate  business  and  mere  amusement  or  feasting,  do 
many  meti  of  business  proceed  day  after  day,  and  year  after 
year,  till  Christianity  is  as  foreign  to  their  thought  as  if  they 
had  been  heathens. 

If  the  man  of  business  have  any  turn  for  reading,  and  that 
not  for  mere  amusement,  it  is  history,  or  politics,  something 
relating  to  the  topics  of  the  day,  but  not  the  Bible  that  he 
reads.  To  this,  if  he  have  not  read  at  school,  many  a  man 
of  business  is  an  utter  stranger ;  and  though  in  this  book, 
God  himself  speaks  to  men,  concerning  their  most  important 
interests,  their  duties  here,  and  their  expectations  hereafter, 
they  will  not  listen  even  to  their  Maker.  On  Sundays, 
which  the  laws  of  most  Christian  countries  prevent  men  from 
giving  to  business,  many   never  go  to  any  place  of  Christian 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IN  THE  WORLD.  81 

worship;  but  to  relieve  themselves  from  the  fatigues  of  the 
week,  make  that  their  day  of  regular  excursion,  in  company 
with  persons  of  similar  occupations ;  and  their  conversation, 
if  not  irreligious  and  profane,  is  at  least  on  topics  altogether 
foreign  to  religion. 

*         *         * 

The  times  in  which  we  live  may,  in  a  very  remarkable  de- 
gree, be  said  to  be  the  age  of  politics,  and,  from  the  very 
extraordinary  state  of  the  world,  it  is  in  some  degree  neces- 
sarily f  o.  Greater  events  are  now  depending  than  any  that 
the  history  of  any  former  age  can  show  ;  and  the  theory  and 
practice  of  the  internal  government  of  countries,  the  circum- 
stances that  tend  to  make  governments  stable,  and  the  people 
prosperous  and  happy,  concerning  which  there  is  endless 
room  for  difference  of  opinion,  occupy  the  thoughts  of  all  men 
who  are  capable  of  any  reflection.  No  person  can  even  read 
the  common  newspaper,  or  see  any  mixed  company,  without 
entering  into  them.  He  will,  of  course,  form  his  own  opinion 
of  public  men  and  public  measures  ;  and  if  they  be  different 
from  those  of  his  neighbours,  the  subjects  will  be  discussed, 
and  sometimes  without  that  temper  which  the  discussion  of 
all  subjects  of  importance  requires.  Consequently,  the  sub- 
ject of  politics,  in  the  present  state  of  things,  is  with  many  as 
much  an  enemy  to  religion  as  trade  and  commerce,  or  any 
other  pursuit  by  which  men  gain  a  livelihood.  Many  persons 
who  read,  find  nothing  that  interests  them  but  what  relates  to 
the  events  of  the  time  or  the  politics  of  the  day. 

This  state  of  things  might  lead  men  to  look  to  the  hand 
of  God,  and  a  particular  providence,  which  is  evidently  bring- 
ing about  a  state  of  things  far  exceeding  in  magnitude  and 
importance,  any  thing  that  the  present  or  any  former  genera- 
tion of  men  has  seen.  And  a  person  of  an  habitually  pious 
disposition,  who  regards  the  hand  of  God  in  every  thing,  will 
not  take  up  a  newspaper  without  reflecting  that  he  is  going  to 
see  what  God  has  wrought ;  and  considering  what  it  is  that 
he  is  apparently  about  to  work.  To  him,  whatever  wishes  he 
6 


82  THE  CHRISTIAN  IN  THE  WORLD. 

may,  from  his  imperfect  view  of  things,  indulge  himself  in, 
(which,  however,  will  always  be  with  moderation  and  sub- 
mission,) all  news  is  good  news.  Every  event  that  has  actu- 
ally taken  place,  as  it  could  not  have  been  without  the  per- 
mission (which  is  in  fact  the  appointment)  of  God,  he  is  per- 
suaded is  that  which  was  most  fit  and  proper  for  the  circum- 
stances, and  will  lead  to  the  best  end  ;  and  though  for  the 
present  it  may  be  calamitous,  the  final  issue,  he  cannot 
doubt,  will  be  happy. 

But  mere  men  of  the  world  look  no  farther  than  to  men, 
though  they  are  no  more  than  instruments  in  the  hand  of 
God ;  and  consequently,  as  the  events  are  pleasing  or  dis- 
pleasing to  them,  promising  or  unpromising,  their  hopes  and 
fears,  their  affections  or  dislikes,  are  excited  to  the  greatest 
degree ;  so  as  often  to  banish  all  tranquillity  of  mind  and 
cool  refiection.  And  certainly,  a  mind  in  this  state  is  not 
the  proper  seat  of  religion  and  devotion.  All  the  thoughts  of 
such  persons  are  engaged,  and  their  whole  minds  are  occu- 
pied by  objects,  which  not  only  exclude  Christianity,  but 
such  as  inspire  a  temper  the  very  reverse  of  that  of  a  Chris- 
tian, which  is  peculiarly  meek,  benevolent,  even  to  enemies, 
and  heavenly-minded,  —  a  disposition  of  mind  which  we 
should  in  vain  look  for  in  the  eager  politician  of  these  times. 
*         *         * 

In  this  state  of  things  can  we  wonder  at  the  progress  of 
infidelity  ?  Those  who  are  entire  strangers  to  it,  see  that  it 
has  little  influence  on  the  hearts  and  lives  of  those  with  whom 
they  converse  ;  so  that  whether  it  be  true  or  false,  they  think 
it  to  be  of  little  consequence,  and  not  vvorLli  the  trouble  of  a 
serious  investigation.  And  many  persons  who  had  nominally 
Christian  parents,  giving  no  more  serious  attention  to  Chris- 
tianity than  they  see  their  parents  and  others  give  to  it ;  ob- 
servinnr  none  of  its  exercises,  or  only  in  the  most  superficial 
manner;  seldom  attending  public  worship;  never  reading 
the  Scriptures,  or  any  book  relating  to  religion,  either  ex- 
plaining its  evidences,  or  enforcing  its  duties,  which  they 
find  to  interfere  with  their  inclinations,  get  a  dislike  to  the 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IN  THE  WORLD.  83 

subject ;  and  in  this  state  of  mind  a  mere  cavil  or  a  jest,  such 
as  are  to  be  found  in  tlie  writings  of  Voltaire  and  other  mod- 
ern unbelievers,  has  the  force  of  argument.  With  many  per- 
sons, too,  in  the  upper  ranks  of  life,  Christianity  being  the 
belief  of  the  common  people,  on  whom  they  look  down  with 
contempt,  has  more  weight  in  their  rejection  of  it  than  they 
will  acknowledge,  or  than  they  may  even  be  aware  of  them- 
selves. 

Now,  as  I  observed  before,  Christianity,  though  not  abso- 
lutely and  expressly  rejected,  is  of  no  use,  unless  it  influence 
the  temper  of  our  minds  and  our  conduct  in  life  ;  if  it  lays  no 
restraint  on  the  love  of  pleasure,  the  love  of  gain,  or  the  pur- 
6uits  of  ambition,  but  leaves  men  as  worldly-minded  in  all 
respects  as  those  who  never  heard  of  it ;  as  much  as  if  they 
had  never  heard  of  that  future  state  which  is  brought  to  light 
by  it,  and  which  in  the  gospel  is  held  up  as  a  constant  and 
most  interesting  object  of  attention  and  contemplation,  to  all 
Christians.  We  should  never  forget  that  religion  is  only  a 
means  to  a  certain  end  ;  and  if  we  do  not  make  this  use  of  it, 
it  would  have  been  better  for  us  never  to  have  had  it,  or  to 
have  known  it ;  since,  then,  we  should  have  had  one  talent 
less  than  we  now  have  to  be  accountable  for.  And  if  it  be 
true  that  God  has  revealed  his  will  to  men,  and  sent  messen- 
ger after  messenger  to  promote  the  virtue  and  happiness  of 
his  rational  offspring,  he  knew  that  such  an  extraordinary 
dispensation  was  necessary  for  us,  and  we  cannot  be  innocent 
if  we  neglect  to  attend  to  it,  and  to  make  the  proper  use  of 
it ;  unless  we  be  so  situated  as  never  to  have  heard  of  it. 
*         *         * 

And  certainly  it  requires  no  small  degree  of  fortitude  and 
resolution  to  appear  so  singular,  as  a  sincere  and  zealous 
Christian  must  sometimes  do,  among  persons  of  a  different 
character.  He  must  be  content  to  be  thought  righteous  over 
much ;  to  be  considered  as  a  man  of  a  weak  mind,  and  de- 
void of  spirit,  and  of  those  qualities  which  recommend  men  to 
the  admiration  of  the  world.  For  though  virtue,  as  it  is  com- 
monly understood,  has  the  sanction  of  general  estimation,  and 


84  THE  CHRISTIAN  IN  THE  WORLD. 

persons  accounted  vicious  are  universally  censured,  the  vir- 
tues that  are  most  admired  are  not  always  Christian  virtues, 
and  give  more  indulgence  to  the  passions,  (as  to  those  of 
revenge,  and  a  love  of  what  is  called  pleasure,  of  various 
kinds,)  than  Christianity  allows.  And  there  is  not  perhaps 
any  vice  besides  that  of  a  mean  selfishness,  that  is  equally 
condemned  by  Christianity  and  the  voice  of  the  world.  We 
see  that  even  murder,  in  the  form  of  a  duel,  passes  without 
any  censure  at  all.  Nay,  the  spirit  with  which  men  fight 
duels  is  applauded  ;  while  the  meekness,  though  it  be  real 
magnanimity,  showing  a  due  command  of  temper,  which 
overlooks  insults,  and  pi'eserves  a  kindness  for  those  who  offer 
them,  is  branded  as  meanness  of  spirit.  Voluptuousness  to  a 
really  criminal  excess  passes  with  so  light  a  censure,  that, 
when  any  person  is  said  to  be  no  man's  enemy  but  his  own, 
he  is  not  thought  at  all  the  worse  of  on  that  account,  espe- 
cially as  it  is  often  accompanied  with  a  contempt  of  money, 
and  a  love  of  society  like  his  own.  Profaneness  is  too  gen- 
erally considered  as  no  vice  at  all,  but  only,  at  the  worst,  a 
foolish  and  unmeaning  custom. 

In  these  circumstances,  a  profound  reverence  for  the  name 
and  attributes  of  God,  the  great  duty  of  not  living  to  our- 
selves, but  of  the  appropriation  of  the  whole  of  a  man's  time, 
fortune,  and  ability  of  every  kind  to  the  good  of  others,  the 
love  of  God  with  the  whole  heart,  and  our  neighbour  as  our- 
selves, including  in  the  word  neighbour  every  person  to  whom 
it  is  in  our  power  to  render  any  service ;  the  obligation  of 
sacrificing  every  thing  in  life,  and  even  life  itself,  for  the  sake 
of  conscience,  in  the  cause  of  truth  and  right,  with  a  view  to 
a  recompence,  not  in  this  world,  but  another,  which  Christi- 
anity requires  of  us  ;  are  things  quite  above  the  comprehension 
of  mankind  in  general.  And  whatever  men  cannot  attain 
themselves,  they  think  to  be  romantic  and  absurd,  a  kind  of 
Quixotism  in  morals,  and  a  just  object  of  ridicule  and  contempt. 

Since,  then,  what  is  called  the  world,  and  the  prevailing 
maxims  and  customs  of  the  times  in  which  we  live,  give  us 
no  assistance,  but  must  operate  as  an   impediment  in  our 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IN  THE  WORLD.  8S 

Christian  course,  we  must  surmount  this  great  difficulty  by 
our  own  voluntary  exertions,  taking  to  our  aid  those  helps  by 
which  Christian  principles  are  most  effectually  impressed  and 
kept  in  view.  Something  of  this  kind  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary, because  no  end  can  be  gained  without  employing  the 
proper  means  ;  and  if  any  thing  that  does  not  necessarily  ob- 
trude itself,  requires  to  be  attended  to,  it  must  be  purposely 
brought  before  the  mind  by  reflection,  reading,  or  conversa- 
tion ;  to  do  this  most  effectually,  some  time  must  be  set  apart 
for  the  purpose.  Also  those  intervals  of  time  which  are  not 
engaged  by  necessary  business,  should  not  be  wholly  given  to 
mere  amusement,  (though  something  of  this  kind  is  necessary 
for  such  beings  as  we  are,)  but  be  employed  to  some  serious 
purpose. 

If,  then,  we  call  ourselves  Christians,  we  must  ever  bear 
in  mind,  that,  though  we  live  in  the  world,  that  is,  with  men, 
who  have  no  views  or  prospects  beyond  it,  whose  chief  pur- 
suits are  riches,  honors,  or  pleasures,  —  these  are  but  secon- 
dary things  for  us.  We  are  to  receive  them  thankfully,  and 
above  all,  to  improve  them  properly,  if,  in  the  course  of 
Divine  Providence,  they  fall  to  our  lot ;  but  we  are,  at  the 
same  time,  to  be  always  looking  be3'ond  them  to  a  more  en- 
during substance,  to  a  treasure  in  heaven,  to  honors  that  are 
unfading,  which  come  from  God  and  not  from  man,  and  to 
that  pleasure  which  is  at  his  right  hand  for  evermore,  accom- 
panied with  that  inward  satisfaction  of  mind,  which  always 
attends  the  possession  of  a  good  conscience.  And  we  ought 
ever  to  be  ready  even  to  renounce  all  the  advantages,  hon- 
ors, and  pleasures  of  the  world,  when  they  come  in  competi- 
tion with  our  duty,  and  our  obedience  to  the  commands  of 
Christ.  We  must  not  hold  even  life  itself  so  dear  to  us,  as 
that  we  should  no<  be  ready  to  part  with  it  (and,  in  whatever 
manner  those  who  in  this  world  have  the  power  over  life 
shall  please)  rather  than  make  shipwreck  of  faith  and  a  good 
conscience.  If  in  the  hour  of  trial  we  deny  Christ,  he  will 
also  deny  us. 


THE   CHRISTIAN  IN  THE  WORI-D. 


It  is  much  easier  to  preserve  these  just  views  of  the  object 
and  end  of  our  profession  in  an  openly  hostile,  than  in  a 
seemingly  friendly  world,  from  the  constant  opposition  of 
principles  and  objects  in  the  former  circumstances.  In  this 
case,  that  is,  in  a  state  of  persecution,  whether  we  volun- 
tarily attend  to  it  or  not,  we  cannot  help  seeing,  and  reflect- 
ing continually,  that  this  world  is  not  our  home.  While  we 
preserve  the  profession  of  our  faith  uncorrupted,  and  while 
we  retain  our  integrity  in  asserting  that  faith,  without  any 
of  those  unworthy  artifices,  whereby  too  many  evade  the  con- 
sequences of  a  frank  and  open  declaration  of  their  real  prin- 
ciples, we  see  there  is  no  state  of  enjoyment  or  repose  to  be 
looked  for  here  ;  and  we  therefore  naturally,  and  indeed 
necessarily,  look  forward  to  "  that  rest  which  yet  remainetb 
for  the  people  of  God,"  where  alone  "  the  wicked  cease  from 
troubling."  In  this  situation  we  want  no  motives  to  cultivate 
that  temper  and  disposition  of  mind,  wliich  alone  can  qualify 
us  for  the  happiness  of  that  heavenly  state. 

But  when  the  world  is  not  apparently  hostile  to  us,  it  is 
most  of  all  truly  so.  For  then  it  is,  that,  not  being  molested 
by  the  world,  at  the  same  time  that  we  are  subject  to  the 
influence  of  it,  being  "  men  of  like  passions  with  others,"  the 
same  things  that  strike  others,  strike  us.  By  mixing  with 
the  world  and  sharing  the  emoluments  of  it,  we  naturally 
become  fond  of  them,  and  attached  to  them  ;  and  with  cer- 
tain limits  this  is  unavoidable  and  not  amiss.  But  is  it  in 
human  nature,  without  particular  efforts  with  ourselves,  to 
which  the  bulk  of  mankind  are  much  averse,  to  keep  within 
the  bounds  of  moderation,  and  not  to  become  too  much 
attached  to  the  world,  and  those  things  of  it  which  are  foreign 
to  our  main  object  and  ultimate  views?  Living  with  the 
world,  we  naturally  live  as  the  world  does,  and  become  grad- 
ually, in  all  respects,  like  the  world ;  and  the  great  objects  of 
our  Christian  profession,  being  too  long  kept  out  of  sight, 
lose  their  influence,  and  we  are  in  danger  of  abandoning  the 
pursuit  of  them  altogether. 


RELIGIOUS  USE  OF  THE  WORLD. 


The  world  in  which  we  live,  with  all  the  influences  to 
which  we  are  subject,  may  be  equally  our  friend  or  our 
enemy,  according  to  the  use  we  make  of  it.  It  is  wonder- 
fully adapted,  by  the  exercise  it  gives  to  our  faculties,  and  to 
our  passions  and  affections,  to  establish,  strengthen,  and  set- 
tle us  in  the  habit  and  practice  of  all  virtue,  and  to  raise  us 
to  a  pitch  of  excellence  to  which  Adam  in  paradise  could 
never  have  attained  ;  but  then  it  is  equally  possible  that,  by 
sloth  and  indulgence,  we  may  debase  our  natures  to  a  degree 
equally  wonderful.  The  knowledge  and  belief  of  Christi- 
anity itself,  as  well  as  every  other  advantage  of  which  we  are 
possessed,  is  also  capable  either  of  promoting  the  moral  per- 
fection of  our  natures,  and  our  fitness  for  immortal  happiness, 
or  of  making  us  the  proper  objects  of  a  greater  condemnation 
than  that  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  in  the  day  of  judgment. 

It  behoves  us,  then,  to  consider  our  situation  and  all  our 
privileges  very  attentively,  that  we  may  make  the  best  use  of 
them.  It  is  not  in  our  option  to  be  in  any  oth  r  circum- 
stances than  those  in  which  our  Maker  has  placed  us.  It 
will  also  avail  us  nothing  to  hide  any  talent  in  a  napkin.  As 
we  have  received  it,  we  must  give  an  account  of  the  use  we 
make  of  it. 

We  are  likewise  ignorant  of  the  time  when  this  account 
will  be  called  for  ;  and  great  and  serious  as  the  business  of 
life  is,  the  time  allowed  for  the  despatch  of  it  is  both  short 
and  uncertain ;  but  though  short,  it  is  sufficient   for  the  pur- 


bo  RELIGIOUS  USE  OF  THE  WORLD. 

pose  of  it,  if  it  be  rightly  improved  ;  and  then  the  uncertainty 
of  its  duration  is  a  circumstance  that  does  not  need  to  give 
us  any  concern.  "  At  such  an  hour  as  vi^e  think  not,  the 
Judge  may  come  ;  "  but  then,  "  blessed  are  those  servants 
whom  the  Lord,  when  he  cometh,  shall  find  watching." 


CHRISTIANITY  ELEVATES  THE  CHARACTER. 


Christianity  is  the  last  dispensation  of  God  to  mankind  ; 
and  it  doth  not  seem  possible,  that  more  ample  provision 
should  be  made  to  enlarge  the  views  and  comprehension  of 
the  human  mind,  in  order  to  fix  its  attention  upon  great  and 
remote  objects,  and  raise  it  above  the  influence  of  present 
and  temporary  things. 

A  true  Christian,  like  his  great  Master,  is  not  of  this  world, 
but  a  citizen  of  heaven.  He  considers  himself  as  a  stranger 
and  pilgrim  here  below,  and  lives  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight. 
Let  him  be  ever  so  poor  and  despised  here,  he  looks  upon 
himself  as  an  heir  of  immortal  glory  and  felicity,  of  an  inheri- 
tance incorruptible  and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away, 
reserved  in  heaven  for  him.  He  may  see  his  body  decaying 
with  old  age,  wasting  with  a  disorder,  or  mangled  with  tor- 
ture, and  every  way  at  the  mercy  of  his  enraged  persecutors  ; 
but  he  rejoices  in  the  firm  belief  and  expectation  of  its  rising 
again  incorruptible  at  the  last  day,  and  that  when  Christ, 
who  is  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  shall  appear,  he  also  shall 
appear  with  him  in  glory. 

What  an  elevation  of  thought  and  sentiment  is  here ! 
How  must  this  faith  make  us  overcome  the  world,  and  ren- 
der us  superior  to  its  allurements  or  its  threats  !  With  this 
enlarged  comprehension  of  mind,  which  brings  the  future 
consequences  of  his  actions  into  immediate  prospect,  it  is 
impossible  that  a  sincere  Christian  should  live  addicted  to 
vicious  gratifications  and  pursuits,  which  he  must  see  to 
be  destructive  of  these  his  animating  hopes ;  and  he  must 


90  CHRISTIANITY    ELEVATES    THE    CHARACTER. 

necessarily  grow  more  in  love  with  that  temper  and  conduct 
which  is,  with  the  greatest  propriety,  called  Christian,  and 
which  ensures  to  him  these  glorious  expectations.  As  He 
who  has  called  him  to  these  great  privileges  is  holy,  so  will  he 
also  be  holy  in  all  manner  of  conversatioji.  It  will  be  his 
daily  endeavour  to  cultivate  that  holiness  of  heart  and  life, 
without  which,  he  is  sensible,  no  man  can  see  the  Lord.  With 
this  hope  set  before  him,  all  the  afflictions  of  this  present  life 
♦vill  seem  light,  trifling,  and  not  worthy  to  be  named  with, 
but  will  be  absolutely  lost  in  the  consideration  of,  that  eter- 
nal weight  of  glory  which  awaits  his  patient  continuance  in 
well-doing. 

This  superiority  to  present  and  temporary  things,  which 
is  attained  by  truly  Christian  principles,  is  of  the  most 
rational  nature,  being  of  the  same  kind  with  that  which  is 
acquired  by  experience,  and  which  necessarily  results  from 
the  structure  of  our  minds,  and  the  circumstances  in  which 
Divine  Providence  has  placed  us  in  this  world  :  for  it  is 
only  perfecting  the  association  of  those  ideas  which  have 
a  real  connexion,  and  uniting  in  our  minds  the  several  parts 
of  one  whole,  and  things  which  nothing  but  time  separates. 
If  it  be  compared  with  that  kind  of  superiority  which  might 
be  acquired  by  other  principles,  those  of  the  Stoics,  for  in- 
stance, its  advantage  vv'ill  appear  to  be  exceedingly  great. 

The  Stoic  affects  to  despise  pain,  because,  according  to 
his  arbitrary  definition  of  things,  it  cannot  be  called  an  evil, 
and  does  not  depend  upon  himself  Having  imagined, 
though  without  any  ground,  that  every  man's  happiness 
must,  in  any  case,  arise  from  himself  (in  exclusion  even  of 
the  Divine  Being,)  he  thinks  it  absurd  to  complain  of  any 
thing  which  he  could  not  help.  Complaint  implies  a  sense 
of  unhappiness ;  and  this,  according  to  his  hypothesis,  can 
never  take  place  without  his  own  consent.  If  his  wife  or 
child  be  in  the  most  dreadful  agonies,  he  looks,  or  affects  to 
look,  on  their  condition  with  the  greatest  tranquillity  and 
the  most  unfeeling  indifference,  satisfied  that  sickness  and 


CHRISTIANITY    EI-KVATES    THE    CHARACTER.  91 

pain  are  not  in  the  catalogue  of  things  within  his  power,  and 
that  the  sufferers  themselves  are  not  unhappy,  since  mis- 
fortancs  are  unavoidable,  and  he  knew  that  his  wife  or  child 
were  not  naturally  exempt  from  them.  When  he  dies,  he 
expects  that  his  soul,  being  a  particle  detached  from  the 
Universal  Mind,  will  be  absorbed  in  it  again,  and  tliat  his 
separate  consciousness  will  be  lost  for  ever. 

These  arc  the  gre  it  outlines  of  the  famous  philosophical 
system  of  Zeno,  which  is  said  to  have  made  so  many  great 
men  ;  but  it  has  certainly  no  foundation  in  nature.  The 
principles  of  it  can  never  have  been  really  felt,  and  all  the 
boasted  effects  of  it  must  have  arisen  from  conceit  and 
obstinacy. 

How  differently,  and  how  much  more  naturally,  does  the 
Christian  think  and  act  in  the  cases  above  mentioned  !  He 
does  not  pretend  to  deny  the  evidence  of  his  senses,  nor 
has  recourse  to  whimsical  distinctions;  and,  not  liaving 
maintained  that  pain  is  no  evil,  he  finds  himself  under  no 
necessity  of  behaving  as  if  he  was  unaffected  by  it.  He 
owns  that  present  sufferings  are  not  joyous,  but  grievous; 
but  he  still  thinks  them  nothing  in  comparison  with  the 
glory  that  shall  be  revealed,  and  therefore  he  endures  pUiently 
for  righteousness'  sake,  in  a  firm  belief  of  being  more  tlian 
recompensed  for  them  at  the  resurrection  of  the  just.  It  his 
friends  be  in  distress,  he  has  no  principles  that  lead  him  to 
check,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  such  as  encourage  him  freely 
to  indulge  his  natural  sympathy  with  them  ;  and  these 
feelings  will  certainly  prompt  hiui  to  exert  himself  to  the 
utmost  in  their  favor.  At  the  same  time,  he  will  not  fail 
to  exhort  his  friends  to  the  duties  of  Christian  patience  and 
fortitude,  inculcating  the  great  Christian  doctrine  of  the 
transitoriness  of  this  world,  and  its  subserviency  to  another. 
When  he  dies,  he  indulges  no  extravagant,  but  really  uncom- 
fortable conceit,  about  being  absorbed  in  the  Divine  Muid  ; 
but  believes  that  he  shall,  in  his  own  person,  rise  again  from 
the  dead,  when   he   shall  resume  and  retain  his  own  separate 


93  CHRISTIANITY    ELEVATES    THE    CHARACTER. 

consciousness,  live  again  under  the  government  of  that  God 
whose  goodness  he  has  experienced  and  whose  friendship 
he  has  secured,  know  all  his  virtuous  friends  once  more,  and 
rejoice  with  them  through  all  eternity. 

If  we  consider  the  principles  of  morals  in  the  heathen 
world,  we  shall  see  the  manifest  advantage  there  is  over  it 
in  the  plan  of  revelation.  The  views  of  the  heathens  upon 
this  subject  were  exc'edingly  confined,  and  did  not  require 
that  comprehension  of  mind  which  is  necessary  to  the  prac- 
tice of  those  duties  that  were  enjoined  both  in  the  Jewish 
and  Christian  systems.  The  great  duties  of  piety,  consist- 
ing in  the  fear  and  love  of  God,  and  a  cheerful  reliance  on 
his  providence,  were,  in  a  manner,  unknown  in  ancient 
times  beyond  the  boundaries  of  Judea.  And  what  can  more 
evidently  tend  to  enlarge  the  comprehension  and  faculties 
of  the  human  mind,  than  the  regards  which  are  due  to  the 
Maker  and  Governor  of  the  world  ? 

While  the  attention  of  the  heathens  was  wholly  engrossed 
by  sensible  things,  those  who  were  favored  with  Divine 
revelation,  even  in  its  most  imperfect  state,  were  engaged  in 
the  contemplation  of  their  invisible  Author.  They  con- 
sidered the  enjoyments  of  life  as  the  effects  of  his  bounty, 
and  all  the  events  of  it  as  taking  place  according  to  the  wise 
appointment  of  his  providence.  Thus  was  the  power  of 
association  enabled  to  present  to  their  minds  the  ideas  of 
great  and  remote  objects,  by  which  their  sentiments  were 
influenced  and  their  conduct  directed.  By  this  means, 
limited  as  were  the  views  of  the  ancient  patriarchs,  their 
conceptions  were  far  more  enlarged,  and  consequently  their 
minds  more  intellectual,  than  those  of  the  gentile  world. 

It  is  true  that  all  the  heathens  were  prone  to  supersti- 
tion, and  that  a  great  number  of  their  actions  were  influenced 
by  regards  to  invisible  agents ;  but  (not  to  say,  what  is  very 
probable,  that  their  religion  was,  in  this  respect,  a  corrup- 
tion of  the  patriarchal)  all  the  gods  they  had  any  idea  of, 
at  least  all  with  whom  they  maintained  any  intercourse,  were 


CHRISTIANITY    ELEVATES    THE    CHARACTER.  93 

local  and  territorial  divinities,  liable  to  the  influence  of  low 
and  vulgar  passions,  and  limited  in  their  powers  and  opera- 
tions.  It  was  not  possible,  therefore,  that  their  theology 
should  suggest  such  sublime  ideas,  as  must  have  been  con- 
ceived by  the  Jews,  from  the  perusal  of  the  books  of  Moses ; 
in  which  we  find  the  idea  of  one  God,  the  Creator  and  Lord 
of  heaven  and  earth,  who  established  and  who  controls 
the  laws  of  nature,  and  who  superintends  the  affairs  of  the 
whole  world,  giving  the  kingdoms  of  it  to  whomsoever  he 
pleases ;  a  Being  of  unspotted  purity,  and  a  fri(!nd  and  pro- 
tector of  all  good  men.  So  far  were  the  notions  which  the 
gentiles  entertained  of  their  gods  below  the  conceptions  of 
the  Jews,  concerning  their  Jehovah,  the  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth,  who  brought  them  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  out  of  the 
house  of  bondage,  destroying  their  enemies  in  the  Red  Sea, 
and  feeding  them  with  bread  from  heaven  for  the  space  of 
forty  years  ;  that  they  could  hardly  have  had  any  ideas  to 
some  of  the  finest  expressions  which  occur  in  the  sacred 
books  of  the  Jews,  as,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  ail  thy  heart ;  "  and  many  others,  which  express  senti- 
ments of  the  most  pure  and  exalted  devotion. 

If  any  people  have  exalted  and  sublime  ideas,  they  are 
sure  to  be  found  in  their  poetry ;  but  how  poor  and  low  is 
the  sacred  poetry  of  tlie  heathens  in  comparison  with  the 
Psalms  of  David  !  The  poems  of  Homer,  of  Hesiod,  or  of 
Callimachus  in  honor  of  the  Grecian  gods,  can  hardly  be 
read  without  laughter  ;  but  the  book  of  Psalms  (the  greatest 
part  of  which  were  written  long  before  the  works  of  any  of 
those  Grecian  poets,  and  by  persons  who  had  travelled  and 
seen  far  less  than  they  had  done)  cannot  be  read  without 
the  greatest  seriousness,  and  are  still  capable  of  exciting 
sentiments  of  the  warmest  and  most  exalted,  and  yet  the 
most  perfectly  rational  devotion.  They  give  us  the  most 
sublime  ideas  of  the  infinite  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness 
of  God.  This  difference  between  the  poetry  of  the  Jews 
and  the  Greeks,  in   favor  of  the  former,  is  so  great,  that  I 


94  CHRISTIANITY    ELEVATES    THE    CHARACTER. 

think  it  cannot  be  accounted  for  without  the  supposition  of 
Divine  communications.  In  point  of  genius,  the  Greeks  seem 
to  have  been  evidently  superior,  and  they  were  certainly  pos- 
sessed of  the  art  of  composition  in  much  greater  perfection. 

Whence,  then,  could  arise  so  manifest  an  inferiority  in 
thi  respect  ?  It  must  have  been  because  the  Jevvisli  theo- 
logy gave  that  nation  ideas  of  a  Being  infinitely  superior  to 
themselves,  the  contemplation  of  which,  with  that  of  his 
works  and  of  his  providence,  would  tend  to  improve  and 
exalt  their  faculties  ;  whereas,  the  heathen  theology  gave 
them  no  ideas  of  beings  much  superior  to  the  race  of  man. 
In  general,  the  gods  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  were  sup- 
posed to  have  been  mere  men,  beings  of  the  same  rank  and 
condition  with  themselves  ;  and,  though  their  powers  were 
supposed  to  be  enlarged  upon  their  deification,  their  passijns 
and  morals  were  not  at  all  improved,  but  continued  just  the 
same  as  before,  so  that  their  greater  powers  were  employed 
about  the  gratification  of  the  lowest  appetites.  This  theo- 
lotry,  therefore,  could  not  infuse  that  noble  enthusiasm  which 
was  inspired  by  the  Jewish  religion,  but  must  rather  have 
tended  to  debase  their  faculties. 

That  extensive  and  perfect  benevolence,  which  is  so  strong'y 
inculcated  in  the  New  Testament,  implies  more  enlarged 
sentiments,  and  greater  perfection  of  the  intellectual  facul- 
ties, than  that  more  limited  benevolence,  which  is  treated  of 
by  the  heathen  moralists,  which  was  hardly  ever  thought 
to  extend  farther  than  to  a  love  of  one's  own  countrymen, 
and  which  admitted  slaves  to  none  of  the  privileges  of  men, 
but  considered  them  as  no  other  than  the  property  of  their 
masters.  But,  in  the  eye  of  a  Christian,  Jew  and  Gentile, 
Barbarian,  Scythian,  bond  and  free,  are  all  equal.  The 
boasted  attachments  of  private  friendship  are  not  more  en- 
dearino-  than  that  mutual  love  which  Christ  recommends  to 
his  disciples.  But,  whereas  private  friendship  was,  with 
the  Greeks  and  Romans,  the  perfection  and  almost  the  end 
of  all  virtue,  the  brotherly  love  of  Christians  is  only  considered 


CHRISTIANITY    ELEVATES    THE    CHARACTER.  95 

as  a  branch   of  a  more  extensive  benevolence,  and  leads  to 
the  love  of  all  the  human  race. 

It  is  evident  that  the  duties  of  contentment,  trust  in 
Divine  Providence,  meekness,  patience,  forbearance  and 
forgiveness  of  injuries,  are  more  insisted  on  by  Christ  and 
his  apostles,  than  by  any  of  the  heathen  philosophers ; 
and  these  virtues  certainly  require  a  greater  comprehension 
of  mind  than  any  other  social  duties.  Children  are  quick 
ill  their  resentments,  their  anger  is  presently  excited,  and 
they  are  unable  to  conceal  what  little  malice  or  revenue 
they  are  capable  of;  but  in  proportion  as  men  advance  in 
age,  in  experience,  and  consequently  in  intellect,  they  are 
able  to  overlook  affronts,  and  to  suspend,  or  wholly  to 
stifle  their  resentments ;  because  they  are  able  to  take  in 
more  distant  consequences  of  passions  and  actions ;  and  the 
sentiments  which  are  suggested  by  these  extensive  views, 
moderate  and  overpower  those  which  are  prompted  by  their 
present  sensations. 

Christianity,  therefore,  by  extending  these  duties,  sup- 
poses, and  thereby  favors  and  promotes  a  still  greater  advance 
in  intellectual  perfection.  To  act  like  a  Christian,  a  man 
must  be  possessed  of  true  greatness  of  mind,  a  self-command, 
fortitude,  or  magnanimity,  which  is  infinitely  more  superior 
to  the  disguised  revenge  of  which  some  are  capable,  and 
which  they  can  brood  over  for  years,  than  this  is  superior  to 
the  quick  resentments  of  children.  It  requires  a  more  just 
knowledge  of  things,  more  experience,  and  more  foresight. 

Thus  does  the  Christian  scheme  appear  to  be  perfectly 
consonant  to  nature.  It  supposes  a  series  of  dispensations, 
in  which  the  human  mind  is  operated  upon,  and  its  improve- 
ment promoted  in  a  manner  analogous  to  that  in  which  it  ia 
actually  operated  upon,  and  its  improvement  promoted  every 
day.  As  the  one,  therefore,  is  conducted  according  to  the 
ordinary  providence  of  the  Divine  Being,  the  other  is  what 
might  be  expected  from  his  extraordinary  dispensations. 
Both  these  schemes  have  the  same  great  object  in  view,  and 
in  both  of  them  the  same  end  is  gained  by  the  same  methods. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER,  HOW  FORMED. 


Such  is  the  importance  of  religion  (being,  in  fact,  the 
great  business  of  human  life),  and  such  the  fascination  of  the 
cares  of  this  world,  that  it  behoves  us  to  be  continually  upon 
our  guard,  lest  the  scenes  through  which  we  must  necessarily 
pass,  draw  off  our  attention  from  things  of  infinitely  more  mo- 
ment, though  more  distant ;  and  thus  the  great  end  and  pur- 
pose of  our  being  be  sacrificed  to  what  is  merely  accidental  or 
instrumental  to  it. 

It  is  our  consolation,  however,  that  almost  all  our  diffi- 
culties in  the  conduct  of  life,  as  it  respects  futurity,  have 
no  other  source  than  want  of  attention  of  mind  to  the  sub- 
ject. For,  so  absolutely  inconsiderable  are  the  things  of  this 
life,  in  comparison  with  that  which  is  to  succeed  it,  that  even 
an  imperfect  apprehension  of  the  nature  of  our  situation  (if, 
in  consequence  of  being  sufiiciently  impressed  and  attended 
to,  it  be  allowed  to  have  its  proper  influence  on  our  minds) 
would  be  sufficient  to  keep  us  in  the  path  of  our  duty.  But 
without  attention  and  consideration,  no  motives,  however 
just  and  weighty,  can  have  any  effect. 

In  reality,  men  miscarry,  and  miss  the  great  end  of  their 
being,  only  in  consetiuence  of  acting  precipitately ,  and  with- 
out attending  to  the  necessary  consequences  of  their  actions. 
In  other  words,  it  is  when  they  act  irrationalhj ,  like  brute 
beasts,  governed  by  mere  appetite  and  passion.  And  when 
they  act  in  this  manner,  is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  that  they  do 
not  attain  the  proper  happiness  of  rational  and  intelligent 
beings  ? 


THE  CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER,  HOW  FORMED.  97 

It  is  with  great  propriety,  therefore,  that  faith  is  repre- 
Bented  in  the  Scriptures  as  the  great  principle  of  the  Chris- 
tian life;  that  it  was  by  faith,  or  in  consequence  of  a  firm 
belief  in  futurity,  depending  upon  the  promise  of  God,  that 
all  the  worthies  of  the  Old  Testament  were  enabled  to  dis- 
tinguish themselves  as  they  did ;  and  that  it  is  still  by  faith 
that  we  Christians  are  to  overcome  the  world. 

Now  this  efficacious  faith  is  not  a  single  act,  or  effort  of 
the  mind,  or  a  simple  conviction  that  a  future  event  will  take 
place,  (for  then  every  man  who,  if  he  were  interrogated, 
would  answer  that  he  was  a  Christian,  would  be  a  good  man,) 
but  it  is  such  a  full  persuasion  of  mind,  and  such  a  lively  ap- 
prehension of  a  distant  event,  as  shall  give  it  its  just  influ- 
ence, the  same  that  it  would  have  near  at  hand  ;  and  this 
can  only  be  acquired  by  frequent  attention  to  it,  and  medita- 
tion upon  it. 

Could  this  great  end  be  attained,  were  truly  Christian 
principles  and  prospects  sufficiently  impressed  on  our  minds, 
it  would  be  impossible  for  us  to  be  guilty  of  any  base  or 
criminal  action  ;  and  the  great  motives  to  the  love  of  God 
and  of  our  fellow-creatures,  not  being  counteracted  by  any 
foreign  influence,  but  having  their  natural  and  uncontroled 
effect  upon  the  mind,  we  should  "  love  the  Lord  our  God  with 
all  our  hearts,  and  our  neighbour  as  ourselves."  And  when 
those  governing  principles  had  taken  deep  root  in  our  minds, 
they  would  lead  to  the  practice  of  the  whole  of  our  duty ; 
and,  our  hearts  and  affections  being  engaged,  every  thing 
right  and  good  would  be  easy  and  pleasant  to  us. 

If  these  maxims  be  true,  a  great  deal  must  be  done  by  a 
man  before  he  can  be  a  Christian  in  the  proper  sense  of  the 
word,  that  is,  "  not  in  name  and  profession  only,  but  in  deed 
and  in  truth  ;  "  because  a  habit  and  temper  is  to  be  formed* 
which  can  only  be  produced  by  the  long  continuance  of  pro- 
per actions.  A  truly  Christian  character  is  not  to  be  formed 
but  by  a  course  of  discipline  and  exercise,  calculated  to  keep 
the  mind  continually  impressed  with  a  lively  sense  of  the 
7 


f^' 


-i  I) ;, 


98  THE   CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER,  HOW  FORMED. 

great  truths  of  Christianity  ;  so  as  to  overpower  the  influence 
of  the  objects  which  surround  us,  and  which  are  continually 
soliciting  our  attention. 

If  there  be  any  one  error  in  religion  more  dangerous  in  its 
tendency  than  others,  it  is  the  opinion  which,  in  some  form 
or  other  (and  it  is  capable  of  endless  modifications)  has  ex- 
isted almost  from  the  commencement  of  Christianity,  viz. 
that  religion  properly  so  called,  or  that  which  renders  a  man 
acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  fits  him  for  heaven,  is  not 
a  habit  or  disposition  of  mind,  such  as  I  have  now  mentioned, 
which  evidently  requires  time  and  care  to  form ;  but  some 
H  !■-  sincrle  act,  or  effbrt,  whether  proceeding  from  a  man's  self,  or 
from  God. 

If  this  be  the  case,  the  whole  may  commence  and  termi- 
nate in  the  shortest  space  of  time,  and  it  may  as  well  take 
place  at  the  last  hour  of  life,  as  at  any  other.  Consequently, 
in  the  prospect  of  this,  men  may  continue  to  live  in  sin, 
secretly  flattering  themselves  with  the  hope  of  a  late  but 
effectual  repentance.  But  if  repentance  consist  of  a  change 
of  disposition  and  conduct,  it  is  not  even  possible  that  a  late, 
or  what  we  call  a  death-bed,  repentance,  can  be  an  effectual 
one.  For  true  repentance  can  only  take  place  in  conse- 
quence of  just  views  of  things,  sufficiently  impressed  upon 
the  mind  by  careful  reflection  ;  and  since  it  is  not  a  momen- 
tary operation,  but  a  fixed  character  that  is  wanted,  it  is,  in 
reality,  but  very  little  that  can  be  done  at  any  one  particular 
time. 

A  man,  for  instance,  may  at  any  time  resolve  to  change 
his  conduct ;  but  that  does  not  amount  to  an  actual  change. 
He  may  perform  any  single  action ;  but  a  single  action, 
thontrh  it  may  lead  to,  does  not  constitute  a  habit;  and  even 
a  habit,  or  course  of  actions,  must  be  continued  a  considera- 
ble time  before  it  can  be  quite  easy  and  familiar  to  him,  so 
that  his  heart  and  affections  shall  be  engaged  in  it;  and  then 
only  is  the  character  properly  formed.  Again,  this  charac- 
ter, arising  from  a  fixed  attachment  of  mind  to  our  duty,  ad- 


THE  CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER,  HOW  FORMED.  99 

mits  of  degrees  ;  for  it  may  bo  a  very  weak  or  a  very  strong 
attachment ;  and  our  future  reward  will  be  in  proportion  to 
to  the  strength  and  confirmed  state  of  all  our  good  habits  and 
dispositions  :  for,  as  great  as  is  the  diversity  of  human  char- 
acters in  this  life,  it  is  probable  that  the  justice  and  wisdom 
of  God  will  provide  as  great  a  diversity  in  their  future  retri- 
bution. 

Besides,  the  opinion  that  the  great  business  of  religion  is 
the  work  of  a  moment,  unavoidably  subjects  men  to  the 
grossest  and  most  fatal  delusions.  Indeed,  how  can  it  be 
otherwise,  when  the  thing  to  be  attained  passes  wholly  within 
a  man's  own  breast,  and  is  generally  spoken  of  as  a  thing 
that  is  incapable  of  verbal  description  ;  the  consequence  of 
which  must  be,  that  persons  of  a  warm  imagination  will  pre- 
sume, on  any  insignificant  emotion,  that  they  have  experi- 
enced this  happy  change,  and  valuing  themselves  upon  it, 
will  be  apt  to  condemn  and  despise  the  rest  of  the  world ; 
while  persons  of  a  timid  disposition  will  be  tormented  with 
doubts  and  despair.  Not  being  content  to  judge  of  their 
hearts  by  their  lives,  they  will  be  perpetually  seeking  for 
something  that  no  man  in  his  sober  senses  ever  imagined  he 
had  found. 

All  the  representations  which  are  given  by  our  Saviour  of 
the  effect  of  the  gospel,  either  in  the  hearts  of  individuals,  or 
in  the  world  at  large,  (which  correspond  to  one  another,) 
give  us  the  idea  of  something  that  has  a  gradual  progress, 
and  no  where  of  a  sudden  instantaneous  effect.  Thus  we 
find  it  compared  to  seed  sown  in  the  ground,  to  a  small 
quantity  of  leaven,  to  laboring  in  a  vineyard,  «Si-c.  all  of 
which  require  a  considerable  time  before  a  sensible  effect  is 
produced. 

The  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  though  established  by  mira- 
cles, did  not  produce  their  effect  on  the  minds  of  men  by  a 
miraculous,  but  by  a  natural  power.  Indeed,  external  mira- 
cles would  have  been  superfluous  upon  this  scheme  ;  since 
God,   by  internal  miracles  only,  might  have  converted  tha 


100  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER,  HOW  FORMED. 

whole  world.  The  gospel  had  that  effect,  and  that  only, 
which  the  ground  on  which  it  was  sown  admitted.  The  new 
views  which  it  opened  to  mankind  induced  most  of  those  who 
were  convinced  that  it  was  of  God,  to  come  to  a  resolution  to 
change  their  former  conduct ;  but  neither  could  their  mere 
belief  of  Christianity,  nor  their  consequent  resolution,  actu- 
ally profit  them,  till  it  had  time  to  bring  forth  the  proper 
fruits  of  it,  viz.  good  works  and  a  change  of  character.  And 
when  men  did  thus  become  Christians,  still  the  apostles  never 
ceased  urging  them,  not  only  to  act  up  to  their  profession,  but 
to  go  on  to  perfection,  comparing  the  Christian  course  to  a 
race,  or  other  exercise,  which  required  the  greatest  and  most 
unremitted  exertion  of  all  their  powers. 

If  I  be  asked  How  this  end  is  to  be  attained,  or,  in  the 
language  of  the  apostle,  how  we  must  gird  up  the  loins  of  our 
minds,  by  what  means  is  this  lively  and  efficacious  faith  in 
the  great  practical  principles  of  religion  to  be  acquired  ?  I 
answer,  with  Paul,  that  faith  comes  by  hearing ;  supposing 
the  consequence  of  hearing  to  be  believing,  and  that  believ- 
ing operates  as  it  ought  to  do :  for  it  naturally  arises  from 
giving  sufficient  attention  of  mind  to  the  evidence  on  which 
our  faith  rests,  and  from  frequent  meditation  on  the  objects  of 
our  faith ;  and  it  cannot  be  produced  by  any  other  means. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER  NOT  APPRECIATED  BY 
THE  WORLD. 


Notwithstanding  this  state  of  outward  rest,  and  though 
no  person  is  directly  persecuted  for  being  a  Christian,  yet 
the  strict  profession  of  Christianity  is,  in  reality,  at  all  times 
in  a  state  of  persecution.  The  world  in  general  is  but  nomi- 
nally Christian,  and  perhaps  will  never  be  wholly  otherwise  : 
for  the  great  bulk  of  mankind,  even  in  countries  termed 
Christian,  have  other  objects  than  Christianity,  and,  indeed, 
think  very  little  about  it.  In  consequence  of  this,  a  true 
Christian,  one  who  values  his  religion  as  he  ought  to  do,  who 
feels  as  he  ought  to  feel,  and  who  acts  as  he  ought  to  act,  will 
be  regarded  with  dislike.  His  conduct  will  be  a  reproach  to 
that  of  others,  and  he  will  never  be  caressed  like  a  man 
whose  virtue  is  of  a  more  pliable  kind,  and  who  can  accom- 
modate himself  to  the  prevailing  taste. 

To  a  certain  degree,  the  principles  of  honor,  integrity,  and 
benevolence,  will  always  be  admired,  and  make  a  man 
esteemed.  But  that  kind  of  honor,  and  that  kind  of  gener- 
osity which  the  world  most  admires,  is  very  consistent  with 
many  things  with  which  a  true  Chrisian  cannot  comply.  The 
common  hero  of  our  stage  is  by  no  means  a  Christian  char- 
acter. And  let  a  Christian  behave  in  a  manner  the  farthest 
from  stiffness  and  moroseness,  his  sentiments  are  so  elevated, 
compared  with  those  of  mere  men  of  business  or  pleasure, 
that  they  cannot  long  accord  together  ;  and  the  latter  being 
the  more  numerous  will  be  able  to  keep  themselves  in  coun- 
tenance, and  will  regard  others  with  aversion  and  disgust. 
Now  the  man  who  is  so  much  a  Christian  as  to  be  unmoved 


102         THE  CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER  NOT  APPRECIATED. 

by  this  contempt  of  the  world,  and  who  can  bear  to  be  ridi- 
culed for  his  principles  at  present,   would,  I   doubt  not,  be 

able  to  die  for  them. 

*  *  * 

The  influence  of  the  world,  pleasure,  ambition,  and  emol- 
ument, being  the  same  upon  the  human  mind  that  it  ever 
was,  it  must  produce  the  same  characters.  Consequently, 
we  must  not  be  surprised,  if  there  should  be  the  very  temper 
of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  of  our  Saviour's  time,  in  the 
rulers  of  Christian  nations,  and  at  the  head  of  Christian  estab- 
lishments. On  the  other  hand,  as  Christianity  was  by  our 
Saviour  compared  to  a  net,  which  took  in  fishes  of  all  kinds, 
good  and  bad,  we  may  expect  that  (as  in  that  early  age)  the 
profession  of  Christianity,  and  even  in  time  of  persecution, 
will  not  always  purify  the  mind  ;  but  that  there  will  be  some 
unworthy  characters  in  all  Christian  churches.  At  the  same 
time,  therefore,  that  we  justly  guard  against  others,  let  us  look 
well  to  ourselves. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  READY  TO  SUFFER  FOR  HIS  FAITH. 


This,  you  may  say,  was  requisite  in  the  circumstances  in 
which  the  apostle  wrote,  Christianity  being  then  in  a  state  of 
persecution,  which  no  person  retaining  the  profession  of  it 
could  avoid  ;  but  now  that  the  church  is  at  rest  from  persecu- 
tion, those  sufferings  are  no  longer  necessary,  and  we  may 
be,  at  this  day,  as  good  Christians  without  any  hardships,  as 
in  those  days  they  who  were  exposed  to  them  could  be. 

I  am  far  from  saying  that  this  is  not  possible ;  but  many 
persons,  I  fear,  deceive  themselves  by  this  view  of  things, 
and  imagine  that  much  less  is  now  necessary  to  make  a 
Christian  than  really  is  so.  Whereas,  the  terms  on  which 
we  become  Christians  (and,  of  course,  become  entitled  to  the 
rewards  of  Christianity  in  a  future  world)  are  the  very  same 
that  they  ever  were,  and,  upon  the  whole,  perhaps  not  less 
difficult.  As  it  greatly  behoves  us  to  form  just  ideas  on  this 
subject,  I  shall  endeavour  to  give  you  some  assistance  with 
respect  to  it ;  and  for  this  purpose,  I  beg  you  will  attend  to 
the  following  observations. 

In  the  first  place,  though  the  actual  suffering  of  the  loss  of 
goods,  of  liberty,  of  life,  or  of  reputation  (which  is  often  more 
valuable  than  life)  be  not  always  required  of  Christians,  the 
temper  of  mind  which  would  enable  them  to  bear  the  loss  of 
all  these,  if  the  sacrifice  should  be  demanded,  is  always  re- 
quired of  us.  AH  Christians  are  required  now,  as  much  as 
in  the  times  of  the  apostles,  to  cultivate  a  superiority  of  mind 
to  this  world,  and  all  the  enjoyments  and  pursuits  of  it.  They 
are  required  to  have  their  affections  so  set  on  heaven,   and 


104       THE  CHRISTIAN  READY  TO  SUFFER  FOR  HIS  FAITH. 

heavenly  things ;  they  are  so  to  liave  their  treasure  and  their 
<jitizenship  in  heaven,  as  that  no  earthly  consideration  shall 
be  able  to  make  them  swerve  from  their  duty.  If  any  thing 
as  dear  to  them  as  a  right  hand,  or  a  right  eye,  would  lead 
them  to  wrong  conduct,  they  must  cut  it  off,  and  cast  it  from 
them.  They  must  not  even  hold  their  lives  dear  unto  them, 
if  it  would  prevent  their  finishing  their  course,  or  discharging 
the  duty  of  a  Christian,  and  that  with  joy,  in  every  situation  in 
which  it  shall  please  Divine  Providence  to  place  them.  Our 
particular  duties  change  with  our  circumstances,  but  the 
principle  which  leads  to  all  duty,  must  ever  be  the  same. 
This  never  changes  ;  and  where  it  really  exists,  it  will  not 
fail  to  make  our  duty,  in  all  cases,  eligible  and  joyful.  A 
good  man  and  a  good  Christian  fears  nothing  but  God,  and 
hates  nothing  but  sin. 

Have  we,  then,  my  Christian  brethren,  this  principle  of 
duty  within  us  1  Have  we  that  steady  attachment  to  Chris- 
tianity, and  that  firm  faith  in  a  future  life,  and  the  rewards 
which  Christ  has  promised  to  his  disciples  there,  that  would 
enable  us  to  bear  persecution,  and  even  death,  rather  than 
swerve  from  it?  If  we  have,  we  are  Christians,  and  shall 
andoubtedly  receive  the  proper  rewards  of  Christianity,, 
whether  we  be  actually  called  to  sufier  persecution  and  death, 
or  not  ;  as  that  soldier  who  keeps  his  rank,  and  holds  himself 
ready  to  engage  when  called  upon,  is  justly  entitled  to  share 
the  rewards  of  victory  with  those  of  his  fellow-soldiers  who 
liappencd  to  be  called  to  the  hottest  action  ;  because  he 
would  have  engaged,  and  with  as  much  alacrity,  if  it  had 
been  his  place. 

But,  my  brethren,  (and  it  behoves  us  seriously  to  question 
ourselves  on  the  subject,)  if  we  be  not  ready  and  determined, 
vi'hen  called  upon,  to  bear  persecution,  and  even  unto  death 
in  the  cause  of  Christ,  we  arc  not  true  Christians.  If  we  be 
not  prepared  to  suffer  with  Christ  here,  neither  shall  we  reign 
and  be  glorified  with  him  hereafter.  If,  in  such  a  case,  we 
would,  in  fact,  deny  him,   he  also  will  deny  us.     And  though 


THE  CHRISTIAN  READY  TO  SUFFER  FOR  HIS  FAITH.       105 

it  does  not  now  appear  to  the  world,  or  may  not  even  be 
known  to  ourselves,  what  our  behaviour  in  time  of  persecution 
for  conscience'  sake  would  be,  it  is  always  known  to  God. 
He  sees  and  judges  by  the  heart,  and  whatever  our  final  des- 
tination may  be,  we  shall  then  be  satisfied  of  the  equity  of  hia 

decision. 

*■  *  * 

The  principles  and  prospects  of  Christianity  are,  in  them- 
selves, so  great,  and  so  far  overbalance  all  the  things  of  the 
present  life,  that  they  only  require  to  be  sufficiently  attended 
to,  to  make  any  person  do  or  bear  any  thing  for  their  sake. 

What  hardships  will  not  men  undergo,  and  what  risk, 
even  of  life,  will  they  not  run,  in  order  to  obtain  a  great 
estate,  and  much  more  a  crown,  in  this  world?  In  such  a 
case  as  this,  the  mere  pain  of  dying  would  not  be  regarded 
by  them,  if  they  were  sure  that  they  should  not  actually  die, 
but  that,  after  this  suffering,  they  should  certainly  gain  their 
purpose.  This  we  see  in  history,  and  in  common  life,  con- 
tinually. There  can  be  no  doubt,  therefore,  but  that  if  the 
same  persons  had  the  same  firm  faith  in  the  future  glorious 
rewards  of  Christianity  that  they  have  with  respect  to  the 
things  of  this  life,  it  would  enable  them  to  do  and  to  suffer  as 
much  in  order  to  obtain  them. 

It  is  only  a  deficiency  of  faith  that  makes  persons  shrink 
from  persecution  and  death  in  the  cause  of  Christianity. 
Because,  in  reality,  all  the  pains  of  this  transitory  life  are 
nothing  in  comparison  of  that  eternal  weight  of  glory  which 
awaits  those  who  have  faith  and  patience  unto  death,  with 
respect  to  another. 


FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES. 


As  to  the  motives  for  the  forgiveness  of  injuries,  what 
should  operate  more  powerfully  upon  Christians  than  the  ex- 
ample of  Christ,  from  whom  we  are  denominated  ?  And  very 
ill  shall  we  be  entitled  to  the  name  of  Christians,  if  we  do  not 
adopt  the  sentiments,  follow  the  example,  and  obey  the  pre- 
cepts of  Christ.  What  are  the  injuries  that  we  have  received, 
great  as  they  have  been,  compared  to  his,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  difference  of  our  characters  and  deserts,  his  superiority 
with  respect  to  which  ought  not  only  to  have  exempted  him 
from  injuries,  but  ensured  to  him  the  gratitude  and  best  offi- 
ces of  his  countrymen  and  the  world.  Instead  of  this,  as 
soon  as  ever  he  made  himself  conspicuous,  though  it  was  by 
the  most  exemplary  virtue  and  universal  beneficence,  he  be- 
gan to  be  envied,  hated,  and  ill-treated,  by  the  priests  and 
leading  men  of  his  nation  ;  (the  church,  as  we  may  say,  and 
the  state;)  and  this  malignity  against  him  increased  in  pro- 
portion as  I  e  distinguished  himself,  till  they  carried  into  exe- 
cution their  diabolical  purpose  of  putting  him  to  a  cruel  and 
ignominious  death. 

Notwithstanding  this,  in  the  very  moment  of  his  greatest 
agony,  he  could  pray,  in  the  words  of  my  text,  "  Father,  for- 
give them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do."  What  dignity, 
my  brethren,  what  greatness  of  mind,  what  self-command, 
what  benevolence,  and  what  piety,  were  here  !  All  that  we  can 
feel  or  do,  will  fall  far  short  of  this.  But,  nevertheless,  let  us 
strive  to  come  as  near  to  it  as  we  can  ;  for  this  is  to  approach 
the  Divine  character  and  conduct,  which  he  imitated,  and 
taught  his  followers  to  imitate,  when  he  exhorted  them  to  be 
"  merciful,  as  our  Father  who  is  in  heaven  is  merciful,  and 
perfect,  as  he  is  perfect." 


CHARITY  THE  DEBT  OF  THE  RICH  TO  THE  POOR. 


The  rich,  therefore,  reflecting  on  the  wise  intentions  of 
Providence,  should  not  suppose  that  they  have  an  absolute 
exclusive  right  to  their  superfluity  ;  the  wise  should  not  be 
wise  for  themselves  alone,  nor  should  the  powerful  protect 
themselves  only  from  insults  and  injuries.  Our  common 
Parent  had  far  other  and  more  extensive  views  in  appointing 
this  inequality.  It  was  no  less  than  to  bind  all  the  parts  of 
the  great  whole  more  strictly  together,  to  make  the  one  more 
dependent  upon  the  other  ;  and  by  an  exchange  of  good  offi- 
ces, easy  to  some,  and  necessary  to  others,  give  scope  to  the 
increase  of  generosity  on  one  side,  of  gratitude  on  the  other, 
and  of  benevolence  on  both  ;  thus  to  advance  them  in  real 
dignity  and  excellence  of  character,  and  thereby  bring  them 
to  a  near  resemblance  to  Himself,  the  pattern  of  all  perfection 
and  excellence,  to  Him  who  is  supremely,  and,  strictly  speak- 
ing, alone  good,  as  being  the  source  of  all  goodness,  who  "  is 
good  to  all,  and  whose  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works." 

Had  all  men  been  equally  well  provided  for,  they  would 
have  been  independent  of  one  another,  and  of  course  unsocial 
and  unfriendly,  and  therefore  might  have  been  disposed  to 
avoid,  rather  than  to  court,  that  society  of  which  they  stood 
in  no  need ;  and  a  spirit  of  envy  and  hatred  might  have  been 
the  result.  But  the  wants  of  some  teach  them  humility, 
patience,  and  gratitude,  excellent  moral  qualities  ;  and  the 
sight  of  distress  softens  the  heart,  and  excites  to  acts  of  kind- 
ness in  others,  which  strengthens  the  principle  of  benevo- 
lence, and  thus  meliorates  the  disposition,  consequently  the 


108    CHARITY  THE  DEBT  OF  THE  RICH  TO  THE  POOR. 

characters  of  both  are  improved,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  say 
which  is  the  more  so,  by  this  circumstance  of  inequality  in 
the  distribution  of  the  gifts  of  Providence. 

Let  not  the  rich  man  make  a  boast  of  his  charity,  as  if  he 
gave  what  he  was  under  no  obligation  to  give  ,  for,  strictly 
speaking,  it  is  a  debt  which  he  owes  to  the  needy.  Benevo- 
lence being  the  great  law  of  our  natures,  and  the  happiness 
of  all  being  the  great  object  of  the  Divine  government,  what- 
ever it  be  that  promotes  this  end,  is  the  proper  duty  of  all, 
according  to  their  respective  abilities  to  contribute  to  it ;  and 
any  person  is  guilty  of  a  breach  of  trust,  who  refrains  from 
doing  it.  All  the  good  that  any  man  can  do,  he  ought  to  do. 
The  Divine  Being,  our  common  Parent,  expects  it  of  him,  as 
a  member  of  his  large  family  ;  and  if  he  "judge  the  world  in 
righteousness",  as  he  assuredly  will,  he  will  punish  the  person 
who  does  less  than  it  was  in  his  power  to  do,  as  having  neg- 
lected a  duty  that  was  incumbent  on  him. 

In  whatever  manner  any  person  becomes  possessed  of 
wealth,  it  is  the  gift  of  God.  If  it  have  accrued  to  him  from 
superior  ingenuity  or  superior  industry,  that  very  superior 
ingenuity  and  spirit  of  activity,  are  alike  the  gift  of  God, 
who  makes  one  man  to  differ  in  these  respects,  as  well  as 
others,  from  another  man ;  so  that,  as  the  apostle  says,  God 
may  say  to  any  man,  "  What  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not 
receive?"  And  *' if  thou  didst  receive  it,  why  dost  thou 
glory,  as  if  thou  hadst  not  received  it  1 "  Consequently,  not 
to  make  that  disposition  of  our  wealth  which  the  Giver  of  it 
intended  that  we  should,  is  to  be  guilty  of  ingratitude  to  God, 
and  real  injustice  to  man.  It  is  to  act  the  part  of  an  unfaith- 
ful steward.  For  in  this  light,  and  no  other,  ought  we  to 
consider  ourselves  with  respect  to  every  thing  that  we  have  to 
spare,  after  the  supply  of  our  own  wants. 

Neither  let  the  rich  boast  of  their  independence  with  re- 
spect to  the  poor.  In  fact  they  are  more  dependent  upon  the 
poor,  than  the  poor  are  upon  them  ;  and  were  all  persona 
reduced  to  a  level,  every  advantage  of  which  they  now  boast 


CHARITY  THE  DEBT  OF  THE  RICH  TO  THE  POOR.  109 

would  vanish.  They  must  then  labor  for  themselves,  and  do 
for  themselves  those  menial  offices  which  are  now  done  for 
them  by  others.  But,  happily  for  us  all,  there  is  such  a 
foundation  laid  in  the  course  of  nature  and  the  order  of  Provi- 
dence, for  that  inequality  in  the  conditions  of  men,  which  has 
60  excellent  an  effect  in  binding  us  all  together,  in  making 
our  connexion  both  necessary  and  mutually  advantageous, 
that  no  institutions  of  man  can  destroy  it ;  though,  as  we  are 
in  duty  bound,  we  may  lessen  the  evils  that  necessarily  arise 
from  it. 


THE  OBJECTS  OF  EDUCATION. 


The  general  object  of  education  is  evidently  to  qualify 
men  to  appear  to  advantage  in  future  life;  which  can  only  be 
done  by  communicating  to  them  such  knowledge,  and  lead- 
ing them  to  form  such  habits,  as  will  lead  them  to  be  most 
useful  hereafter :  and  in  this  the  whole  of  their  future  being, 
to  which  their  education  can  be  supposed  to  bear  any  rela- 
tion, is  to  be  considered. 

If  I  knew  that  my  child  would  die  when  he  had  attained 
to  the  age  of  five  or  six  years,  and  that  his  existence  would 
then  terminate  ;  I  should  certainly  make  no  provision  respect- 
ing him  for  any  thing  beyond  that  term,  but  endeavour  to 
make  him  as  happy  as  I  could  during  the  short  period  in 
which  he  could  enjoy  any  thing.  I  would,  for  the  same  rea- 
son, provide  for  him  only  such  gratifications  as  his  infant 
nature  was  capable  of 

Again,  if  I  knew  that  he  would  attain  to  the  age  of  man- 
hood, but  that  then  his  existence  would  not  be  prolonged  any 
farther;  I  should  endeavour,  as  well  as  I  could,  to  qualify  him 
for  acting  such  a  part  as  would  be  useful  to  himself  and  oth- 
ers in  that  period,  but  should  never  think  of  extending  my 
plan  so  far  as  to  enable  him  to  pass  a  comfortable  old  age,  a 
term  of  life  to  which  I  knew  he  never  would  arrive. 

For  the  same  plain  reason,  a  man  who  believes  that  the 
whole  period  of  his  own  existence,  and  that  of  his  oflspring, 
is  confined  to  the  present  life,  would  act  very  absurdly  if  he 
should  train  up  his  children  with  a  view  to  a  future  life,  ex- 
cept so  far  as  he  should  think  that  such  a  farther,  though  a 


THE  OBJECTS  OF  EDUCATION.  Ill 

chimerical,  object,  might  be  subservient  to  his  proper  conduct 
in  the  present  life. 

These  are  obvious  considerations,  which  ought  to  have 
their  weight  with  all  rational  beings  ;  and  according  to  them, 
the  mere  man  of  the  world  must  allow,  that  a  Christian,  —  who, 
as  such,  believes  that  himself  and  his  offspring  are  destined 
to  exist  in  a  future  life,  and  that  the  principles  and  habits  that 
we  form  here  have  a  decisive  influence  on  our  happiness 
hereafter,  —  would  act  irrationally,  if  he  did  not  use  his  utmost 
endeavours  to  give  his  children  such  principles  and  habits,  as 
would  secure  to  them  an  interest  in  a  future  world.  Such  a 
regard  to  the  principles  of  truth,  of  right,  and  of  virtue,  as 
would  lead  a  man  to  be  a  martyr  to  them,  would  be  absurd  in 
an  unbeliever ;  because  he  would  sacrifice  his  all  for  no  real 
advantage ;  but  it  would  be  most  wise,  and  therefore  right,  in 
a  Christian,  who  believes  that  such  a  glorious  sacrifice,  and 
the  disposition  of  mind  that  leads  to  it,  would  secure  him  an 
everlasting  recompence  in  a  future  state.  Moreover,  since  a 
Christian  regards  this  life,  principally,  as  it  is  sub.servient  to 
another,  which  is  of  infinitely  more  value,  he  must  consider 
tlie  duties  of  religion  as  the  first  thing  to  be  attended  to  by 
him,  and  must  be  taught  to  disregard  all  authority  that  would 
enjoin  upon  him  a  conduct  which  would  be  detrimental  to  his 
greatest  and  ultimate  interest ;  because  he  will  gain  more  by 
his  steadiness  in  his  regard  to  a  higher  authority,  than  he  can 
lose  by  opposing  an  inferior  power. 

The  first  thing,  therefore,  that  a  Christian  will  naturally 
inculcate  upon  his  child,  as  soon  as  he  is  capable  of  receivino- 
such  impressions,  is  the  knowledge  of  his  Maker,  and  a 
steady  principle  of  obedience  to  him  ;  the  idea  of  his  living 
under  the  constant  inspection  and  government  of  an  invisible 
Being,  who  will  raise  him  from  the  dead  to  an  immortal  life, 
and  who  will  reward  and  punish  him  hereafter  according  to 
his  character  and  actions  here. 

On  these  plain  principles  I  hesitate  not  to  assert,  as  a 
Christian,  that  religion  is  the  first  rational  object  of  education. 


112  THE  OBJECTS  OF  EDUCATION. 

Whatever  be  the  fate  of  my  children  in  this  transitory  world, 
about  which  I  hope  I  am  as  solicitous  as  I  ought  to  be,  I 
would,  if  possible,  secure  a  happy  meeting  with  them  in  a 
future  and  everlasting  life.  I  can  well  enough  bear  their 
reproaches  for  not  enabling  them  to  attain  to  worldly  honors 
and  distinctions  ;  but  to  have  been  in  any  measure  acces- 
sary, by  my  neglect,  to  their  final  perdition,  would  be  the  oc- 
casion of  such  reproach  and  blame,  as  would  be  absolutely 
insupportable. 


OF  INSTRUCTION  IN  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  MORALS 
AND  RELIGION. 


It  has  been  a  maxim  hastily  adopted,  and  with  great  plau- 
sibility supported,  by  some  men  of  genius,  that  nothing  should 
be  inculcated  upon  children  which  they  cannot  perfectly  un- 
derstand and  see  the  reason  of  But,  in  fact,  it  has  not  been 
applied  to  any  subject  but  that  of  religion,  the  doctrines  of 
which  are  said  to  be  too  abstruse  for  their  comprehension. 
Had  the  application  of  the  maxim  been  made  universal,  the 
absurdity  and  impracticability  of  it  could  not  but  have  been 
immediately  perceived.  In  reality,  we  act  upon  the  very 
contrary  maxim  in  every  thing  that  respects  children,  espe- 
cially very  young  children  ;  and  there  is  not,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  a  possibility  of  doing  otherwise.  Thus  the  ear  of  a 
child  is  accustomed  to  the  sounds  of  all  kinds  of  words  long 
before  he  can  possibly  have  any  idea  of  their  meaning. 

It  is  upon  this  plan  that  the  great  business  of  education  at 
large  is  conducted  by  Divine  Providence.  Appearances  are 
continually  presented  to  our  view  long  before  we  are  able  to 
decypher  them  or  to  collect  and  apply  the  instruction  which 
they  are  adapted  to  give  us ;  and  the  gradual  decyphering  of 
appearances,  which  we  have  long  contemplated  without  un- 
derstanding, contributes  considerably  to  the  pleasure  of  the 
discovery,  and  enhances  the  value  and  use  of  it.  It  is  the 
same  with  children  when  they  decypher  our  language  ;  and 
they  are  enabled  to  do  it  by  the  very  same  process,  namely, 
comparing  the  different  circumstances  in  which  we  use  the 
sajne  expression^ 

8 


114  OF  INSTRUCTION  IN  THE  PRINCIPLES 

Besides,  the  mind  may  be  very  usefully  impressed,  and  a 
foundation  may  be  laid  for  future  instruction,  though  no  de- 
terminate ideas  be  communicated ;  and  if,  by  accustoming 
children  to  the  outward  forms  of  religion  only,  as  by  making 
them  keep  silence,^  and  kneel  when  others  pray,  &c.  a  gen- 
eral notion  be  gradually  impressed  upon  their  minds,  that 
some  reverence  is  due  to  a  power  which  they  do  not  see,  and 
that  there  exists  an  authority  to  which  all  mankind,  the  rich 
and  great,  as  well  as  the  poor  and  mean,  must  equally  bow, 
a  good  end  will  be  gained.  Besides,  by  this  means,  a  me- 
chanical habit  will  be  formed,  which  will  not  be  laid  aside, 
till,  by  degrees,  they  come  to  know  the  reason  of  it,  and  to 
enter  into  it  with  understanding  and  pleasure  ;  whereas  they 
would  not  have  had  the  same  advantage  for  a  rational  knowl- 
edge and  practice  without  that  previous  and  mechanicat 
habit.  Thus  a  child  who  is  made  to  bow  mechanically  upon 
being  introduced  into  a  room,  or  to  persons  of  certain  ranks 
and  characters,  before  he  can  be  sensible  of  the  full  meaning 
of  it,  afterwards  enters  more  easily  into  those  sentiments  of 
decency  and  respect  for  stations  and  characters  which  distin- 
guish the  civilized  from  the  uncivilized  part  of  mankind. 
Thus,  also,  the  custom  of  making  bonfires  on  the  fifth  of 
November,  in  which  children  are  as  active  as  men,  is  of  use 
to  inspire  them,  at  an  earlier  period  than  they  would  other- 
wise be  capable  of  it,  with  an  abhorrence  of  popery  and  arbi- 
trary power,  and  makes  them  enter  into  those  sentiments  with 
much  more  warmth  than  they  would  otherwise  have  done. 

Was  the  thing  itself  but  of  trifling  consequence  in  the  con- 
duct of  life,  children  might,  without  much  inconvenience,  be 
suffered  to  be  unacquainted  with  any  principles  of  religion, 
till  they  were  capable  of  a  rational  inquiry  into  them,  and  a 
regular  investigation  of  them  ;  bat,  considering  that  religion 
is  of  unspeakable  consequence  in  the  conduct  of  life,  inspir- 
ing just  sentiments  concerning  God  and  our  fellow-creatures, 
just  notions  of  the  business  and  end  of  life,  and  enforcing  the 
obligations  of  conscience,  in  order  to  our  attaining  the  proper 


OF  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.  115 

dignity  and  true  happiness  of  our  rational  nature  here,  and 
infinitely  superior  felicity  hereafter  ;  we  ought  not,  surely,  to 
neglect  any  part  of  a  process  which  is  naturally  adapted  to 
gain  so  great  an  end.  Indeed,  I  believe  that  no  person,  who 
had  himself  a  just  sense  of  the  importance  of  religion,  ever 
imagined  that  there  was  any  sort  of  impropriety  in  the  reli- 
gious instruction  of  his  children. 

It  may  be  said  that,  in  this  method,  we  take  an  unfair  ad- 
vantage of  the  imbecility  of  the  rational  faculties,  and  incul- 
cate truth  by  such  a  kind  of  mechanical  prejudice  as  would 
enforce  the  belief  of  any  thing  ;  and  this  is  readily  acknowl- 
edged, without  any  confession  of  impropriety  in  the  thing. 
For  the  whole  of  our  treatment  of  children  is  necessarily  of  a 
piece  with  this,  prejudicing  them  in  favor  of  our  own  opinions 
and  practices  ;  so  that  there  is  hardly  any  thing  that  a  child 
does  not  believe  before  he  is  acquainted  with  the  proper 
grounds  on  which  his  belief  ought  to  rest.  It  is  sufficient  for 
him  that  he  has  the  authority  of  his  parent,  or  tutor,  for  it  ; 
and  till  he  finds  that  he  has  been  misled  by  his  parent  or 
tutor,  he  can  never  entertain  any  suspicion  of  them,  or  see 
any  reason  for  examining  and  questioning  what  they  assert. 
Rational  conviction  is  generally  preceded  by  such  doubts  and 
suspicions  as  a  child  cannot  possibly  have  entertained.  Can 
there  be  any  reason  then  why  we  sliould  avail  ourselves  of 
the  authority  of  a  parent  in  other  things,  and  make  an  excep- 
tion with  respect  to  religion  only  ? 

Besides,  when  the  thing  is  rightly  understood  and  consid- 
ered, it  will  appear  not  to  be  so  very  difficult  a  matter  to  give 
even  a  child  very  useful  notions  of  religion,  and  such  as  he 
shall  sufficiently  understand ;  as  that  there  is  a  being  caHed 
God,  who  made  him  and  all  things  ;  that  this  Being,  though 
invisible  himself,  sees  us  wherever  we  are,  and  that  he  will 
make  us  happy  if  we  be  good,  and  miserable  if  we  be  wicked. 
If  it  should  appear  that,  for  some  time,  a  child  conceives  of 
God  as  of  a  man  who  lives  above  the  clouds,  and  from  thence 
sees  every  thing  that  is  done  upon  the  earth,  there  will  no  ma,-. 


116  OF  INSTRUCTION  IN  THE  PRINCIPLES 

terial  inconvenience  attend  it ;  because  it  is  only  a  sense  of  the 
power,  the  providence,  and  the  government  of  God  that  is  of 
principal  importance  to  be  inculcated.  What  else  he  is,  or 
where  he  is,  signifies  very  little  in  this  case.  A  child  may 
also  be  made  to  understand  that  this  God  gave  a  commission 
to  a  man,  called  Jesus  Christ,  to  teach  mankind  his  will  and 
to  persuade  them  to  practise  it ;  that  he  was  put  to  death  by 
wicked  men  who  would  not  hearken  to  him ;  but  that  God 
raised  him  from  the  dead,  and  will  send  him  again  to  raise 
all  the  dead  ;  when  he  will  take  the  good  with  him  into 
heaven,  a  place  of  happiness,  and  send  the  wicked  into  hell, 
a  place  of  punishment. 

There  is  nothing  in  all  this  but  what  a  child,  who  has 
attained  to  the  use  of  speech,  may  be  made  to  understand 
sufficiently  ;  and  yet,  in  fact,  this  is  the  substance  of  all  that 
is  most  important  in  religion.  When  children  come  to  read, 
they  may  easily  be  taught  that  the  Bible  contains  several 
books  written  by  good  men,  which  give  an  account  of  the 
creation  of  the  world,  of  what  God  has  done  for  mankind, 
what  he  enjoins  us  to  do  here,  and  how  he  will  dispose  of  us 
hereafter,  together  with  the  history  of  the  prophets,  of  Jesus 
Christ,  of  his  apostles,  and  of  good  men  in  all  ages ;  and  they 
may  be  made  to  read  the  Scriptures,  with  the  seriousness  and 
respect  that  is  due  to  them.  No  other  history  was  ever  writ- 
ten with  such  plainness  and  simplicity,  no  style  is  so  easy  as 
that  of  the  historical  books  of  Scripture  ;  and  with  a  little 
judgment  in  selecting,  and  skill  in  explaining  a  few  things 
and  expressions,  any  child  that  can  read  may  be  instructed  in 
the  principles  of  religion  from  the  Bible  with  peculiar  advan- 
tage ;  and  his  mind  will  be  impressed  with  greater  force  by 
reading  the  words  of  God,  and  of  his  prophets,  than  those 
which  proceed  from  any  less  authority. 

Some  may  object  to  the  scheme  of  inculcating  the  princi- 
ples of  virtue  from  a  regard  to  any  mere  authority,  or  even 
from  the  consideration  of  rewards  or  punishments ;  thinking 
it  better  to  have  them  inculcated  at  the  very  beginning,  from 


OP  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.  117 

the  most  generous  principles  only,  so  as  to  make  children 
love  virtue  for  its  own  sake.  But  such  persons  do  not  under- 
stand, or  do  not  consider,  the  true  origin  of  our  affections. 
For  the  most  disinterested  of  them  become  so  by  degrees 
only,  and  are  far  otherwise  at  their  first  formation.  Except 
the  mere  gratification  of  our  corporeal  senses,  we  at  first  value 
and  pursue  every  thing  for  some  other  end  than  itself,  and 
afterwards  come  to  value  it  for  its  own  sake.  A  child  has  no 
love  or  affection  for  any  person  whatever,  till  he  has  felt  their 
importance  to  himself,  in  the  manner  described  before ;  and 
by  degrees,  dropping  that  immediate  bond  of  union,  he  loves 
others  without  any  regard  to  himself. 

This  process  admits  of  the  easiest  illustration  from  what  is 
known  concerning  the  passion  for  money,  which  is  acquired 
so  late  in  life,  that  the  whole  process  of  it  may  be  easily  ob- 
served. Originally,  money  is  not  valued  but  for  its  use  to 
procure  us  the  gratification  of  a  desire  of  something  else  ;  but, 
by  the  force  of  habit,  misers  come  to  make  that  an  end,  which 
at  first  was  only  a  means,  and  are  eagerly  bent  upon  the  ac- 
cumulation of  wealth  as  such,  without  ever  thinking  whether 
themselves,  or  any  person  for  whose  welfare  they  are  solici- 
tous, be  likely  to  make  any  use  of  it. 

If,  therefore,  we  should  follow  nature,  we  must  instruct 
children  by  the  very  same  process.  To  talk  to  them  of  doing 
what  is  right,  for  its  own  sake,  cannot  have  any  influence 
upon  them  for  the  present.  They  must  first  of  all  have  much 
easier  lessons  given  them,  and  make  farther  advances  as  they 
are  able.  If  any  good  be  done  by  inculcating  these  refined 
maxims  of  conduct  upon  children,  it  must  be  by  means  of 
authority  only,  a  child  not  being  capable  of  comprehending 
any  other  reason  why  he  should  adopt  them  ;  and  therefore 
they  are  very  improperly  urged  by  those,  who  object  to  the 
use  of  authority  in  teaching  religion. 

Whatever  objection  any  person  may  have  to  the  use  of 
authority  to  inculcate  the  principles  of  religion  or  the  maxims 
of  right  conduct  upon  children,  all  persons  find  themselves 


118 


OP  INSTRUCTION  IN  THE  PRINCIPLES 


obliged  to  have  recourse  to  it,  because  they  are  not  always 
able  to  explain  to  a  child,  their  reasons  for  his  acting  as  they 
prescribe;  but  content  themselves  with  hoping  that,  when  he 
has,  by  any  means,  been  accustomed  to  do  what  it  is  his  duty, 
interest,  and  happiness  to  do,  he  will  in  time  be  able  to  see 
that  his  duty,  interest,  and  happiness  are  concerned  in  it,  and 
therefore  will  be  able  to  persevere  from  a  regard  to  those  bet- 
ter motives.  In  like  manner,  it  behoves  every  wise  parent  to 
make  use  of  his  own  authority,  together  with  that  of  God,  and 
also  of  the  prospect  of  rewards  and  punishments,  both  here 
and  hereafter,  in  order  to  enforce  upon  his  child  that  course 
of  conduct,  which  he  wishes  him  to  pursue  from  more  ingen- 
uous principles,  as  soon  as  he  shall  be  capable  of  it. 

Besides,  the  submission  to  competent  authority  is  of  itself 
right  and  our  duty  ;  and  a  habit  of  ready  submission  in  this 
case  will  be  of  great  use  in  the  course  of  our  lives.  It  ought, 
therefore,  by  all  means,  to  be  inculcated  upon  young  persons  ; 
and  this  is  best  done,  and  the  habit  most  effectually  formed, 
by  actually  enforcing  it,  —  esj>ecially  where  no  other  method 
can  be  taken  to  engage  them  to  do  their  duty  from  conviction 
and  inclination  ;  and  frequent  occasions  for  this  interposition 
of  mere  authority  will  occur,  after  persons  are  passed  the 
years  of  infancy.  For  as  reason  acquires  strength,  the  pas- 
sions acquire  strength  also;  insomuch  that  the  aid  of  author- 
ity will  be  very  useful  till  the  full  term  at  which  the  laws  of 
this  country  impower  a  man  to  act  for  himself  Many  per- 
sons, who  are  now  arrived  to  the  age  of  forty  or  fifty,  may  re- 
collect occasions,  on  which  they  are  thankful  or  would  have 
been  thankful  for  the  control  of  another,  when  passion  had 
blinded  their  own  judgment,  at,  or  even  after,  twenty-one 
years  of  age. 

I  will  add,  as  an  argument  that  must  more  especially  en- 
force the  religious  instruction  of  children,  that,  in  fact,  a 
man  has  no  choice,  but  whether  his  child  shall  imbibe  the 
principles  of  true  or  false  religion,  i.  e.  what  he  himself  shall 
deem  to  be  so ;  as  it  will  be  absolutely  impossible  to  keep  the 


OF  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.  119 

minds  of  his  children  free  from  all  impressions  of  this  kind, 
unless  they  converse  with  nobody  but  himself,  and  a  few  select 
friends,  who  may  be  apprized  of  his  scheme,  and  concur  with 
him  in  it.  Nay,  if  children  go  to  any  school,  or  be  allowed 
to  converse  with  the  servants  or  dependants  of  his  parent 
which  cannot  be  entirely  prevented,  he  must  lose  no  time,  and 
be  very  attentive  and  assiduous,  or  his  good  impressions  will 
come  too  late  to  efface  the  bad  ones,  to  which  they  will  have 
been  exposed.  Things  being  thus  circumstanced,  no  person, 
who  considers  the  irreparable  injury  that  may  be  done  to  the 
mind  by  enthusiastic  and  superstitious  notions  of  religion,  can 
hesitate  about  what  he  has  to  do  in  this  case. 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  EARLY  RELIGIOUS 
INSTRUCTION. 


The  great  importance  of  an  early  religious  education  may 
appear  from  this  consideration,  that  the  impression  which 
ideas  make  upon  the  mind  does  not  depend  upon  the  defini- 
tions of  them,  but  upon  sensations,  and  a  great  variety  of  ideas, 
that  have  been  associated  with  them ;  and  these  associations 
require  time  to  be  formed  and  cemented.  The  idea  of  God 
may  be  defined,  and  explained  to  a  man  of  the  world,  who 
has  hardly  ever  heard,  and  seldom  thought  of  him  ;  but  the 
impression  that  is  made  upon  his  mind  when  the  name  of  God 
is,  at  any  time,  mentioned  to  him,  cannot  be  the  same  with 
that  which  will  be  felt  by  a  person  who  has  been  accustomed 
to  hear  and  think  of  God  from  his  infancy,  who  has  been 
much  conversant  in  the  Scriptures,  and  has  lived  in  a  gen- 
eral habit  of  devotion.  In  the  mind  of  such  a  person  the  idea 
of  God  must  have  acquired  a  thousand  associations,  which, 
though  they  arc  infinitely  complex,  will  be  felt  as  one  sensa- 
tion;  but,  from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  it  is  impossible  that 
it  should  be  ever  fully  explained,  or  comn)unicated  to  another. 
The  analysis  of  such  an  idea  is  far  too  difficult  a  problem  for 
any  human  sagacity;  or  if  the  thing  were  possible,  the  doing 
of  it  would  not  enable  a  person  to  communicate  the  sensa- 
tions that  entered  into  it ;  because  the  same  events  in  life 
would  be  necessary  to  it ;  and  without  these  the  same  result- 
ing ideas  and  impressions  cannot  be  obtained. 

For  this  reason  no  two  persons  can  have  precisely  the  same 
idea  of  any  thing  about  which  they  are  much  conversant ;  far 


EARLY  RELIGIOUS  INSTRUCTION.  121 

the  minute  associations  which  enter  into  it  will  be  different, 
though  they  may  have  a  great  resemblance  ;  and  perhaps 
there  is  no  object  of  our  thoughts  from  the  impression  of 
which  men  feel  more  differently,  than  the  idea  of  God  ; 
though  the  impression  made  by  it  on  the  minds  of  persons 
educated  in  a  similar  manner  will  be  nearly  the  same,  so  that 
by  using  the  same  words  they  may  communicate  what  may, 
with  sufficient  propriety,  be  called  the  same  feelings  to  each 
other. 

This  observation,  which  appears  to  me  of  considerable  im- 
portance, I  shall  endeavour  to  illustrate  by  a  case  that  very 
much  resembles  it.  All  persons  know  what  is  meant  by  the 
iexm.  father,  and  if  they  are  asked,  would  define  it  in  the  same 
manner  ;  but  the  man  who  has  never  known  a  father  of  his 
own,  or,  which  is  nearly  the  same  thing,  has  had  little  con- 
nection with  him,  no  dependence  upon  him,  or  particular  ob- 
ligation to  him,  will  by  no  means  have  the  same  feelings 
when  the  word  is  pronounced  to  him,  with  the  man  who  was 
brought  up  in  a  constant  uninterrupted  intercourse  with  a 
father,  and  has  been  the  object  of  innumerable  endearments 
and  kind  offices,  and  who  has  likewise  frequently  felt  the 
effects  of  paternal  correction.  Every  instance  of  this  nature 
has  an  effect,  and  therefore  leaves  an  impression  upon  the 
mind,  which  is  not  wholly  lost.  For  though  it  soon  becomes 
separately  indiscernable,  it  makes  part  of  an  infinitely  com- 
plex sensation,  and  is  one  of  the  elements  of  what  is  called 
filial  affection,  or  that  mixture  of  love  and  reverence  which  is 
the  necessary  result  of  paternal  care  properly  conducted. 
Now  the  most  transient  idea  suggested  by  the  word  father 
will  excite  in  the  mind  of  such  a  son  a  secondary  idea, 
which,  though  it  does  not  affect  the  definition  of  the  term,  is, 
however,  inseparable  from  it ;  and  if  dwelt  upon,  it  will  un- 
fold itself  into  a  most  exquisite  and  incommunicable  feeling. 
To  have  this  feeling  a  man  must  have  lived  a  whole  life  in  a 
particular  manner. 


122  THE  IMPORTANCE 

In  like  manner,  besides  those  ideas  annexed  to  such  words 
as  God,  religion,  future  life,  &bc.  which  can  be  communi- 
cated to  others  by  their  definitions,  there  are  what  are  some- 
times called  secondary  ideas,  or  feelings,  which  are  aggre- 
gate sensations,  consisting  of  numberless  other  sensations 
and  ideas,  which  have  been  associated  with  them,  and  which 
it  is  absolutely  impossible  for  one  person  to  communicate  to 
another ;  because  the  same  education,  the  same  course  of 
instruction,  the  same  early  discipline,  the  same  or  similar  cir- 
cumstances in  life,  and  the  same  reflections  upon  those  cir- 
cumstances, must  have  concurred  in  the  formation  of  them. 
They  are,  however,  these  infinitely  complex  and  indescriba- 
ble feelings  that  often  give  those  ideas  the  greatest  force,  and 
their  influence  upon  the  mind  and  conduct ;  because  disposi- 
tions to  love,  fear,  and  obey  God  have  a  thousand  times  fol- 
lowed those  complex  feelings,  and  pious  and  worthy  resolu- 
tions have  been  connected  with  them. 

On  this  account,  persons  whose  education  has  been  much 
neglected,  but  who  begin  to  hear  of  religion  and  apply  them- 
selves to  it  late  in  life,  can  never  acquire  the  devotional  feel- 
ings of  those  who  have  had  a  religious  education ;  nor  can  it 
be  expected  that  they  will  be  uniformly  influenced  by  them. 
They  may  use  the  same  language,  but  their  feelings  will,  not- 
withstanding, be  very  different. 

The  difference  is,  however,  nothing  more  than  is  observed 
in  other  similar  cases.  A  man,  who  has  from  his  infancy 
been  conversant  with  any  thing,  will  have  ideas  of  it  very  dif- 
ferently modified  from  those  of  the  person  who  has  acquired 
them  by  the  information  of  others,  or  later  in  life.  A  person 
who  has  been  bred  in  a  camp  will  have  very  different  ideas  of 
every  thmg  relating  to  war  from  those  who  have  only  heard 
or  read  of  such  things,  or  who  have  seen  something  of  war 
later  in  life;  and  the  ideas  of  the  former  cannot,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  be  communicated  with  precision  toothers  ;  because 
the  component  parts  of  those  ideas,  or  rather  the  feelings. 


OF  EARLY  RELIGIOUS  INSTRUCTION.  123 

were  acquired  by  passing  through  a  variety  of  scenes  which 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  the  mind,  and  therefore  left 
traces  proportionably  deep. 

I  shall  conclude  with  observing,  that  the  influence  of  gen- 
eral states  of  mind,  turns  of  thought,  and  fixed  habits,  which 
are  the  consequence  of  them,  is  so  great,  that  too  much  atten- 
tion cannot  be  given  to  education,  and  the  conduct  of  early 
life.  Supposing  the  present  laws  of  our  minds  to  continue 
(and  there  is  no  more  reason  to  expect  a  change  in  them  than 
in  any  other  of  the  laws  of  nature),  our  happiness  to  endless 
ages  must  depend  upon  it.  It  is  a  necessary  consequence  of 
the  principle  of  association,  that  the  mind  grows  more  callous 
to  new  impressions  continually ;  it  being  already  occupied 
with  ideas  and  sensations  which  render  it  indisposed  to  re- 
ceive others,  especially  of  a  heterogeneous  nature. 

We,  in  fact,  seldom  see  any  considerable  change  in  a  per- 
son's temper  and  habits  after  he  has  grown  to  man's  estate. 
Nothing  short  of  an  entire  revolution  in  his  circumstances 
and  mode  of  life  can  effect  it.  This  analogy  will  lead  us 
to  consider  the  state  of  our  minds  at  the  commencement  of 
another  life  (being  produced  by  the  whole  of  our  passage 
through  this)  as  still  more  fixed,  and  indisposed  to  any  change 
for  the  better  or  worse.  Consequently,  our  happiness  or 
misery  for  the  whole  of  our  existence  depends,  in  a  great 
measure,  on  the  manner  in  which  we  begin  our  progress 
through  it. 

The  effects  of  religious  impressions  made  upon  the  mind 
in  early  life  may  be  overpowered  for  a  time  by  impressions  of 
an  opposite  nature,  but  there  will  always  be  a  possibility  of 
their  reviving  in  favorable  circumstances  ;  i.  e.  in  circumstan- 
ces in  which  ideas  formerly  connected  with  religious  impres- 
sions will  necessarily  be  presented  to  the  mind,  and  detained 
there.  Let  a  man  be  ever  so  profligate,  his  friends  may 
always  have  hopes  of  his  being  reclaimed,  if  he  had  a  reli- 
gious education,  and  his  religious  impressions  were  not 
effaced  very  early.     But  if  no  foundation  of  religion  has  been 


124  THE  IMPORTANCE 

laid  in  early  life,  many  of  the  most  favorable  opportunities  of 
being  brought  to  a  sense  of  their  duty  are  lost  upon  them. 
For  in  the  minds  of  such  persons  there  are  no  religious  im- 
pressions, not  even  in  a  dormant  state,  and  capable  of  being 
revived  by  circumstances  that  have  the  most  natural  and  the 
strongest  connections  with  them.  Also  ideas  of  religion,^ 
like  those  of  other  objects  with  which  we  form  an  acquaint- 
ance too  late  in  life,  will  never  make  much  impression  ;  and 
being  foreign,  and  dissimilar  to  all  the  other  impressions  with 
which  the  mind  has  been  occupied,  they  will  never  be  able 
to  take  place  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time  ;  other  associa- 
tions continually  taking  place  to  the  exclusion  of  these. 

Besides,  as  the  objects  about  which  we  are  much  conver- 
sant are  apt  to  become  magnified  in  our  minds,  as  persons 
unavoidably  value  their  own  professions  and  pursuits,  and  the 
more  in  proportion  as  they  have  less  knowledge  of  others ; 
habits  and  practices  that  are  really  vicious,  ultimately  perni- 
cious in  society,  and  quite  opposite  to  every  thing  of  a  reli- 
gious nature,  will  have  formed  unnatural  associations  with 
ideas  of  honor,  spirit,  and  other  things  of  a  similar  kind  ;  so 
that  some  virtues  and  religious  duties,  as  humility,  modesty, 
temperance,  chastity,  &c.  will  never  appear  to  them  respec- 
table and  engaging  ;  and,  on  account  of  the  connexion  of 
these  virtues  with  others,  every  thing  belonging  to  strict 
morals  and  religion  will  be  regarded  with  aversion  and  con- 
tempt. This  turn  of  thinking  may,  for  want  of  early  reli- 
gious impressions,  be  so  confirmed  that  nothing  in  the  usual 
course  of  human  life  shall  be  able  to  change  it.  The  very 
things  that  are  the  means  and  incitements  to  religion  and  de- 
votion in  previously  well-disposed  minds,  have  the  very  op- 
posite effect  on  others.  Thus  we  see  that  the  reading  of  the 
devotional  parts  of  Scripture,  of  incidents  in  the  life  of  Christ 
and  the  apostles,  the  meditation  upon  which  fills  the  minds  of 
some  with  reverence  and  devotion,  even  to  ecstasy,  are  read 
by  others  with  ridicule  or  disgust.  No  argument  can  be  of 
any  use  to  such  persons,  because  the  thing  that  is  wanting  is 


OF  EARLY  RELIGIOUS  INSTRUCTION.  125 

a  proper  set  of  associated  feelings  arising  from  actual  impres- 
sions, the  season  for  which  is  over,  and  will  never  return. 
The  contempt  of  religion  in  such  persons  is  only  increased 
by  endeavours  to  persuade  them  of  its  value  ;  so  that  it  is 
much  more  advisable,  when  persons  are  got  to  a  certain  pitch 
of  infidelity  and  profligacy,  to  let  them  alone,  and  entirely 
cease  to  remonstrate  with  them  on  the  subject.  The  very 
discoursing  about  religion  only  revives  such  ideas  as  they 
have  formerly  connected  with  it,  and  which  renders  the  sub- 
ject odious  to  them. 

The  plain  inference  from  all  this  is,  that  if  we  wish  that 
religious  impressions  should  ever  have  a  serious  hold  upon 
the  mind,  they  must  be  made  in  early  life.  Care,  however, 
must  be  taken,  lest,  by  making  religious  exercises  too  rigor- 
ous, an  early  aversion  be  excited,  and  so  the  very  end  we  have 
in  view  be  defeated. 


INFIDELITY. 


If  I  be  asked  why  I  write  so  much  as  I  do,  on  the 
subject  of  the  Evidences  of  Christianitj/  (for  many  of  my 
publications  relate  to  it,)  I  answer,  that  both  its  infinite  im- 
portance and  the  extraordinary  crisis  of  the  times  call  for  it 
from  every  person  who  conceives  that  he  has  any  prospect  of 
being  heard  and  attended  to.  There  is  no  subject  whatever 
with  respect  to  which  I  am  more  ftdly  satisfied  myself ;  and 
few  persons,  I  imagine,  will  pretend  that  they  have  given  so 
much  attention  to  it  as  I  have  done.  It  does  not,  however, 
follow  from  this  circumstance,  that  I  have  viewed  it  in  every 
possible  light,  and  that  others  may  not  discover  what  I  have 
overlooked.  I  have  therefore  wished  to  promote  the  most 
free  and  open  discussion  of  it,  and  have  not  failed  to  invite, 
nay,  to  provoke,  this  examination,  on  every  proper  occasion. 

When,  however,  we  have  done  all  that  we  can,  we  must 
leave  the  event  to  a  wise  Providence,  whose  instruments  we 
are,  and  which  has,  no  doubt,  the  best  ends  to  answer  both 
by  the  promulgation  of  Christianity,  and  the  present  remark- 
able progress  of  infidelity.  And  believing  this,,  we  should 
not,  after  doing  what  we  conceive  to  be  our  duty,  make  our- 
selves unhappy  ;  though  influenced,  as  we  necessarily  are,  by 
the  objects  that  are  nearest  to  us,  it  must  give  pain  to  every 
zealous  Christian  to  see  so  many  persons,  for  whose  in- 
tellectual and  moral  improvement  he  is  concerned,  and 
especially  his  near  friends  and  relations,  carried  away  by  the 
torrent,  which  he  sees  to  sweep  before  it  every  principle  that 
he  feels  to  be  most  valuable  and  useful  to  himself;  leaving 


INFIDELITY.  127 

them  mere  worldly-minded  beings  instead  of  heavenly-minded, 
bounding  their  prospects  by  the  grave,  when  his  own  most 
pleasing  prospects  are  beyond  it. 

When  I  read  the  Scriptures,  in  which  I  have  increasing 
satisfaction  as  I  advance  in  life,  the  animating  accounts 
which  there  abound,  of  the  perfections  and  providence  of 
God,  extending  to  all  the  affairs  of  individual  men  as  well 
as  those  of  states  and  kingdoms ;  and  especially  the  glorious 
prospects  that  are  there  given  us  of  the  future  state  of  things 
in  the  world,  with  respect  to  the  great  events  which  seem  now 
to  be  approaching  ;  and  the  light  that  is  thrown  over  the  state 
beyond  the  grave,  so  encouraging  to  every  virtuous  endeavour  ; 
I  cannot  help  wishing  that  all  persons  might  partake  with 
me  in  them,  and  I  feel  the  most  sensible  concern  for  those 
who  cannot  do  it.  Unbelievers  cannot  have  the  solid  con- 
solation that  Christians  have,  under  all  the  troubles  of  life, 
especially  those  that  are  endured  for  the  sake  of  a  good  con- 
science, arising  from  the  persuasion  that  all  things  are  work- 
ing together  for  their  good,  if  not  here,  yet  assuredly  hereafter. 
Least  of  all  can  the  unbeliever,  at  the  approach  of  death,  sing 
the  triumphant  song  of  the  Christian,  "  O  grave,  where  is  thy 
victory  1  O  death,  where  is  thy  sting?  " 
*  *  * 

I  wish  it  were  possible  for  me  to  convey  to  my  philosophical 
unbelieving  friends,  the  feeling  I  have  of  the  value  of  Chris- 
tianity, a  value  which  is  enhanced  by  the  experience  of  a 
pretty  long  and  various  life,  in  which  Christian  principles 
have  been  of  the  most  substantial  use  to  me,  both  in  prosperity 
and  in  adversity;  and,  as  they  have  supported  me  through 
life,  they  will,  I  doubt  not,  afford  consolation  in  the  hour  of 
death.  But  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  language  to  express  all 
that  I  feel  on  this  subject.  Such  complex  feelings  as  I  wish 
to  communicate,  have  been  formed  by  associations  that  have 
been  accumulating  in  a  long  series  of  events  and  reflections  ; 
in  reading,  thinking,  and  conversation,  &c. ;  so  that  a  man 
must  have  lived  in  a  great  measure  as  I  have  lived,  and 


128  INFIDELITY. 

consequently  have  felt  what  I  have  felt,  before  he  can  be 
impressed  as  I  am,  with  the  language  appropriated  to  religion, 
and  especially  the  language  of  the  Scriptures.  What  im- 
presses me  with  the  deepest  reverence,  would  be  heard  by 
many  with  indifference  or  contempt. 

My  reader  may  make  an  experiment,  as  it  were,  on  his 
own  feelings,  by  attending  to  the  prayer  of  Jesus,  in  the 
seventeenth  chapter  of  John's  Gospel,  and  the  language  of 
Paul,  in  those  epistles  which  he  wrote  from  Rome  a  short 
time  before  his  death. 

But  animating  and  encouraging  as  their  language  is,  to 
those  who,  like  Jesus  and  Paul,  have  in  some  measure  de- 
voted their  lives  and  employed  their  best  talents,  to  the  same 
great  purposes,  it  cannot  be  felt,  and  will  be  but  imperfectly 
conceived,  by  others.  Some  persons,  however,  who  have  not 
taken  their  place  in  the  seat  of  the  scorner,  if  their  early 
education  has  not  been  very  unfavourable,  and  especially  if 
they  have  been  so  happy  as  to  have  met  with  disappointments 
in  life,  may  conceive  that  there  is  something  enviable  in  the 
state  of  mind  in  which  their  language  could  be  adopted. 
*  #  * 

Young  persons  are  apt  to  be  dazzled  with  the  reputation 
of  several  unbelievers,  who  have  been  greatly  overrated  by 
their  friends.  I  feel  no  disposition  to  detract  from  their 
merit  in  any  respect,  though  I  think  integrity  the  most  im- 
portant qualification  in  searching  after  truth.  But,  however 
brilliant  may  have  been  the  talents  of  some  unbelievers  (I 
speak  only  of  writers),  they  are  not  the  men  to  whom  the 
world  is  most  indebted  for  making  real  advances  in  useful 
knowledge.  In  this  respect  I  will  venture  to  say,  that 
nothing  of  much  consequence  has  been  done  by  any  of  them. 
Mr.  Hume,  I  have  shown  in  my  "Letters  to  a  Philosophical 
Unbeliever,"  did  not  advance  a  single  step  in  metaphysics, 
in  which  he  held  himself  out  as  having  done  the  most.  The 
excellence  of  Voltaire  was  that  of  a  poet  and  a  lively  writer. 
D'Alembert  can  hardly  be  classed   among  writers  in  defence 


INFIDELITY,  129 

of  infidelity;  but  his  merit,  besides  that  of  an  elegant  writer 
in  prose,  is  that  of  a  mathematician,  and  he  did  not  much 
advance  the  bouuds  of  that  branch  of  knowledge.  The 
rest  have  no  claim  to  reputation,  but  as  writers  against  reve- 
lation. And  what  were  any  or  all  them,  compared  with 
Newton,  Locke,  or  Hartley,  who  were  equally  eminent  as 
divines  and  as  philosophers? 

But  what  young  persons  entering  upon  life  should  be  most 
influenced  by  (if  by  anything  besides  the  mere  love  of  truth,) 
is  the  tendency  of  any  system  to  promote  virtue  and  happiness. 
In  this  respect  what  can  we  infer  concerning  Voltaire  and 
D'Alembert,  from  their  own  letters,  but  that  they  were  men 
full  of  self-conceit,  despising  even  all  unbelievers  besides 
themselves,  full  also  of  jealousy  and  malignity,  perpetually 
complaining  of  the  world,  and  of  all  things  in  it;  and  if  we 
join  to  them  their  correspondent  and  admirer  (but  one  whom 
it  is  evident  they  did  not  much  admire),  the  late  king  of 
Prussia,  we  shall  not  add  much  to  the  mass  of  moral  re- 
spectability or  real  happiness.  No  Christian,  in  the  hum- 
blest and  most  afflicted  situation  in  life,  need  to  envy  them. 
I  would  not  exchange  my  own  feelings,  even  those  in  sit- 
uations in  which  they  would  have  thought  me  an  object  of 
compassion,  for  all  the  satisfaction  they  could  have  enjoyed 
in  the  happiest  scenes  of  their  lives.  To  social  beings  the 
great  balm  of  life  is  friendship,  founded  on  real  esteem  and 
affection,  and  of  this  they  evidently  had  very  little  ;  whereas 
the  attachment  that  I  feel  for  many  of  my  Christian  friends, 
though  now  separated  from  me  by  the  ocean,  and  some  of  them 
by  death,  is,  I  am  confident,  a  source  of  infinitely  greater  sat- 
isfaction to  me,  than  all  their  friendships  ever  were,  or  could 
be  of,  to  them. 


TENDENCY  TO  ATHEISM  IN  MODERN  UNBELIEVERS. 


The  progress  of  infidelity  in  the  present  age  is  attended 
with  a  circumstance  which  did  not  so  frequently  accom- 
pany it  in  any  former  period,  at  least  in  England,  which  is, 
that  unbelievers  in  revelation  generally  proceed  to  the  dis- 
belief of  the  being  and  providence  of  God,  so  as  to  become 
properly  Atheists.  Hov/ever,  when  the  subject  is  duly  con- 
sidered, it  will  be  found  that  the  same  disposition  and  turn 
of  mind  which  leads  to  Deism,  will  naturally,  in  the  present 
state  of  knowledge,  lead  to  Atheism. 

Whatever  exceptions  there  may  be  to  the  observation,  it 
is  for  the  most  part  true,  that  a  wish  to  reject  revelation 
precedes  the  actual  rejection  of  it.  The  belief  of  it  is  felt 
as  a  restraint,  which  many  persons  are  desirous  of  throwing 
off,  and  this  is  more  effectually  done  on  the  atheistical  than 
on  the  deisiical  system.  I  must  be  allowed  to  take  it  for 
granted,  because  I  am  confident  that,  with  few  exceptions 
(and  I  should  rejoice  if  I  could  think  they  were  more),  it  is 
a  fact,  that  it  is  the  too  strict  morals  of  the  Scriptures  that 
displeases  the  generality  of  unbelievers.  The  rule  of  life 
prescribed  in  those  books  is  more  definite  and  less  easily 
evaded,  than  that  which  is  perceived  by  the  mere  light  of 
nature,  which  is  too  easily  made  to  bend  to  men's  inclinations  ; 
so  that  they  who  profess  to  follow  that  only,  find  no  great 
difficulty  in  justifying  to  themselves  any  indulgence  to  which 
they  are  much  inclined,  and  which  Christians  of  every  de- 
nomination condemn.  And  for  the  same  reason  that  an  un- 
believer, viciously  inclined,  prefers  natural  to   revealed    re- 


TENDENCY  TO  ATHEISM  IN  MODERN  UNBELIEVERS.         131 

ligion,  he  will  prefer  no  religion  at  all,  or  pure  atheism, 
which  rejects  every  i.lea  of  a  future  state,  to  deism  which 
admits  of  it. 

While  the  rewards  of  virtue  and  the  punishments  of  vice 
are  supposed  to  take  place  in  this  life  only,  and  are  seen  to 
be  what  they  really  are,  very  various  and  uncertain,  a  regard 
to  them  will  not  be  sufficient  to  control  strong  natural  in- 
clinations. We  see  every  day  that,  though  habitual  intem- 
perance occasions  diseases  and  premature  death,  thousands, 
who  yet  are  as  far  from  courting  disease  or  death  as  other 
persons,  persist  in  sensual  indulgence ;  thinking  at  the  time 
that  in  each  particular  transgression  of  the  rules  of  temperance, 
there  is  little,  if  any  thing,  criminal ;  that  it  is  a  thing  which 
affects  themselves  only  ;  and  flatter  themselves  that  the  con- 
sequences will  either  not  take  place  with  respect  to  them,  or 
will  be  inconsiderable,  so  as  to  be  overbalanced  by  the  present 
enjoyment.  Now  were  all  consideration  of  religion  removed, 
men  would  have  no  more  restraint  with  respect  to  any  practice 
whatever,  to  which  they  were  naturally  inclined,  than  they 
usually  have  with  respect  to  excess  in  eating  and  drinking. 
They  would  have  no  dread  of  future  punishment,  and  would 
flatter  themselves  with  the  hope  of  escaping  any  temporal  in- 
convenience. 

While  the  belief  of  the  being  of  a  God,  of  a  providence,  and 
of  a  future  state,  were  articles  of  faith  with  those  who  rejected 
revelation  (which  was  the  case  with  all  the  celebrated  unbe- 
lievers in  England  in  the  last  and  beginning  of  the  present 
century),  there  was  a  considerable  restraint  upon  men's  con- 
duct. It  is  true  that  the  rule  of  moral  duty  is  less  accurately 
defined  on  the  principles  of  the  mere  light  of  nature,  than  on 
those  of  revelation,  and  therefore  unbelievers  could  without 
self-reproach  take  greater  liberties  in  their  conduct  than 
Christians ;  but  still  there  v/ould  remain  a  suspicion,  that  the 
Supreme  Being,  who  would  hereafter  call  them  to  account  for 
their  conduct,  might  judge  differently  from  what  they  did  ; 
and  as  they  would  not  be  able  at  all  times  to  secure  the  ap- 


132  TENDENCY  TO  ATHEISM 

probation  of  their  own  minds  in  their  reflections  on  their 
conduct,  so  fully  as  they  could  wish  to  do  it,  they  might 
dread  the  more  impartial  judgment  of  God.  But  this  appre- 
hension and  restraint,  to  whatever  it  might  amount,  would  be 
wholly  remo-ved  on  the  supposition  of  there  being  no  God,  no 
providence,  or  future  state.  A  vicious  unbeliever  in  revela- 
tion would  therefore  naturally  not  be  displeased  on  finding 
the  evidence  for  this  belief  weaker  than  he  had  thought  it  to 
be,  and  rejoice  when  he  could  think  it  to  be  of  no  weight  at 
all.  And  this  shows  the  natural  tendency  of  deism  to  atheism. 
If  a  man  be  an  unbeliever  in  a  future  state,  it  is  of  little  or  no 
consequence  with  respect  to  his  conduct,  whether  he  believe 
in  the  being  of  a  God  or  not ;  because  on  that  supposition  this 
belief  would  add  nothing  to  the  sanctions  of  virtue. 

Or,  supposing  the  disposition,  or  bias,  that  leads  a  man  to 
infidelity  be  not  a  propensity  to  any  kind  of  vicious  indul- 
gence, but  only  a  wish  to  be  considered  as  a  person  free  from 
vulgar  prejudices,  and  one  who  thinks  for  himself;  he  will  be 
farther  removed  from  the  vulgar  by  rejecting  the  belief  of  a 
God,  a  providence,  and  a  future  state,  than  by  the  rejection  of 
revelation  only.  If  he  have  any  thing  of  this  disposition, 
which  is  felt  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  by  most  persons  of 
liberal  education,  or  who  have  much  intercourse  with  the 
fashionable  world,  he  will  feel  more  pride  and  self-complacence 
in  proportion  as  he  recedes  farther  from  the  ideas  and  senti- 
ments of  those  whose  education  has  been  more  confined,  and 
who  have  seen  less  of  the  world  than  he  has  done. 
*  *         * 

M.  Volney's  account  of  the  primitive  condition  of  man, 
without  any  known  author  or  guide,  is  not  a  little  curious. 
He  says  "  it  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  all  systems  which  sup- 
pose the  interposition  of  a  God,  in  the  origin  of  the  world, 
'  that  man  receives  all  his  ideas  by  means  of  his  senses  ; ' 
that  '  at  his  oi  igin  man  was  formed  naked,  with  respect  to 
body  and  mind,  thrown  by  accident  upon  the  earth,  confused 
and  savage,  an   orphan  abandoned  by  the  unknown  power 


IN  MODERN  UNBELIEVERS.  133 

which  produced  him.  He  found  no  being  descended  from 
the  heaven  to  inform  him  of  his  wants,  which  he  learns  only 
from  his  senses,  or  of  his  duties,  which  arise  only  from  his 
wants.  Like  other  animals,  without  experience  of  the  past, 
or  foresight  of  the  future,  he  wandered  in  the  midst  of  the 
forest,  guided  and  governed  by  the  affections  of  his  nature.  By 
the  pain  of  hunger  he  was  led  to  his  food,  and  to  provide  for 
his  sustenance  ;  by  the  intemperature  of  the  air  he  wished  to 
cover  his  body,  and  he  made  himself  clothes  ;  by  the  attraction 
of  pleasure  he  approached  a  being  like  himself,  and  per- 
petuated his  species.' " 

M.  Volney  did  not,  surely,  consider  that  the  first  man,  let 
him  have  had  a  maker  or  no  maker ;  let  him  have  dropped 
from  the  clouds,  or  have  risen  out  of  the  earth ;  let  him 
have  been  produced  in  a  state  of  infancy  or  of  manhood  ; 
yet  that,  without  instruction,  he  must  have  perished  before 
he  could,  by  his  own  sensations  and  experience,  have  ac- 
quired knowledge  enough  to  preserve  his  life.  The  pain 
of  hunger  would  have  come  upon  him  long  before  he  could 
have  learned  to  walk,  or  have  got  the  use  of  any  of  his 
limbs ;  and  the  more  fidl  grown  he  was  at  the  time  of  his 
production,  the  more  difficult  would  his  learning  to  walk, 
or  even  to  crawl,  have  been.  Man,  therefore,  must  have 
had  a  guide  as  well  as  a  maker;  and  divine  interposition 
was  absolutely  necessary  at  his  entrance  into  life.  M.  Vol- 
ney's  idea  was  evidently  that  of  a  Robinson  Crusoe,  thrown 
upon  an  uninhabited  island,  with  all  the  knowledge  that  he 
had  acquired  in  the  course  of  his  former  life.  His  primitive 
man  must  have  been  produced  with  the  instinctive  knowledge 
of  a  gardener  at  least.  He  must  have  been  able  to  distinguish 
fruits  that  were  wholesome  from  those  that  were  noxious,  and 
have  got,  by  some  means  or  other,  the  use  of  his  limbs,  his 
eyes,  and  other  senses,  before  it  would  have  been  in  his  power 
to  avail  himself  of  that  knowledge. 

Let  M.  Volney  consider  what  he  himself,  with  his  present 
strength  of  muscles  and  acuteness  of  intellect,  could  have 


134    TENDENCY  TO  ATHEISM  IN  MODERN  UNBELIEVERS. 

done,  in  the  situation  of  his  primitive  man.  Let  him  have 
been  left  on  the  earth  in  ever  so  favorable  a  climate, 
and  in  ever  so  warm  and  comfortable  a  place,  so  as  to  want 
no  clothing ;  yet,  having  no  ideas  but  such  as  he  got  by  the 
impression  of  the  objects  around  him,  he  would  have  been  no 
better  than  a  great  sprawling  infant.  By  the  stimulus  of 
light  he  would  have  opened  and  shut  his  eyes,  but  would 
have  had  no  idea  of  the  relative  distances  of  any  objects. 
The  nearest  tree,  the  remotest  hill,  and  even  the  heavenly 
bodies  would  have  seemed  to  be  in  the  same  plane  and  all 
contiguous  to  him.  He  might  have  moved  his  arms  and  legs 
in  an  automatic  manner,  but  he  would  not  have  been  able  to 
rise  from  the  ground.  He  would  have  felt  the  pain  of  hunger ; 
but  though  the  most  proper  food  should  have  happened  to  be 
ever  so  near  to  him,  he  could  not  have  known,  without  expe- 
rience, that  eating  would  remove  that  pain.  He  would  there- 
fore have  lain  a  helpless  prey  to  the  first  wild  beast,  if  there 
were  any,  that  should  have  happened  to  find  him.  If  it 
should  have  happened  that  a  female,  of  the  same  size,  had 
been  produced  at  the  same  time,  and  have  been  dropped  by 
another  accident  (the  chance  of  which  must  have  been  very 
small  indeed)  ever  so  near  him ;  being  equally  ignorant,  they 
would  have  been  equally  helpless,  and  must  soon  have  perished 
together,  without  any  perpetuation  of  the  species.  All  would 
have  been  to  begin  again,  and  to  no  better  purpose. 

If  M.  Volney  will  give  himself  time  to  think  a  little  more 
clo.sely  on  this  important  subject,  he  will  find  that  Divine 
interpositions  must  have  been  necessary  at  least  at  the  for- 
mation of  man,  or  that  his  formation  would  have  been  in  vain; 
and  if  they  were  necessary  then,  they  may  have  been  ex- 
pedient, since  that  time.  Moses's  account  of  the  primitive 
state  of  man,  though  not  without  its  difficulties,  is  certainly 
much  more  probable  than  that  of  M.  Volney.  Indeed,  no 
hypothesis  can  well  be  more  improbable  than  his. 


THE  PREVALENCE  OF  INFIDELITY. 


Ardently  as  the  zealous  Christian  must  wish  for  the 
extension  of  his  religion,  and  the  universal  prevalence  of 
those  principles  which  he  conceives  calculated  to  enlighten 
his  own  mind,  to  cheer  his  heart  under  all  the  vicissitudes  of 
life,  and  to  give  him  hope  even  in  death ;  and  much  as  he 
will,  consequently,  lament  the  prevalence  of  principles  which 
have  an  opposite  tendency  ;  yet,  upon  a  more  extensive  view 
of  the  subject,  he  will  see  no  reason  to  be  disturbed  or 
alarmed  at  the  present  aspect  of  things. 

The  prevalence  of  infidelity,  great  as  it  certainly  is,  can 
never  be  universal.  Admitting  revealed  religion  to  be  ever 
so  ill-founded,  no  better,  for  example,  than  the  heathenism 
of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  yet  being  the  faith  of  the  bulk 
of  the  common  people  in  all  countries  called  Christian,  and 
they  having  a  strong  attachment  to  it,  it  may  be  taken  for 
granted  that  they  will  long  continue  to  believe  it ;  since  it  is 
universally  true  that  the  common  people,  who  receive  their 
opinions  and  practices  from  their  ancestors,  and  are  little  dis- 
posed to  speculate,  are  very  backward  to  change  them,  and 
retain  them  a  long  time  after  the  more  thinking  and  inquis- 
itive abandon  them.  This  we  see  to  be  the  case  even  when 
the  new  religion  has  something  the  most  inviting  to  offer  in 
the  place  of  the  system  that  is  to  be  given  up.  Heathenism 
continued  in  many  villages  of  the  Roman  empire  six  hundred 
years  after  the  promulgation  of  Christianity.  But  as  modern 
unbelievers  do  not  pretend  to  have  any  thing  to  propose  as  an 


136  THE  PREVALENCE   OF  INFIDELITY. 

equivalent  to  what  the  Christian  mus^  abandon,  it  may  be 
expected  to  continue  much  longer  in  the  world,  and  inde- 
pendently of  any  rational  evidence  in  its  favor. 

But  the  rational  Christian,  having  no  doubt  of  the  truth 
of  his  religion,  is  confident  that  it  will  finally  prevail,  and  by 
its  own  evidence,  when  it  comes  to  be  attended  to,  bear 
down  all  opposition.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  all  impartial  per- 
sons, even  those  who  have  not  the  leisure,  or  the  means,  of 
entering  into  the  historical  investigation  themselves,  that  the 
truly  intelligent,  the  inquisitive,  the  candid,  and  the  virtuous, 
will  be  the  friends  of  revelation  ;  and  that  the  firm  belief  of  it 
tends  to  form  a  character  superior  to  that  of  unbelievers,  in- 
spiring a  dignity  and  elevation  of  mind  incompatible  with  any 
thing  mean  or  base. 

The  true  Christian,  having  a  constant  respect  to  God,  a 
providence,  and  a  future  state,  feels  himself  less  interested 
in  the  things  that  excite  the  avarice,  the  ambition,  and  other 
base  passions  of  men  ;  and  consequently  his  mind,  elevated  by 
devotion,  more  easily  expands  itself  into  universal  benev- 
olence, and  all  the  heroic  virtues  that  are  connected  with 
it.  The  Christian,  believing  that  every  thing  under  the 
govennnent  of  God  will  have  a  glorious  termination  in  uni- 
versal virtue  and  universal  happiness,  easily  yields  himself 
the  willing  instrument  in  the  hands  of  Providence,  for  so 
great  a  purpose;  and  considering  himself  as,  with  the  apostle, 
a  worker  together  \uth  God,  he  will  live  a  life  of  habitual  de- 
votion and  benevolence  ;  sentiments  which  are  inconsistent 
with  a  propensity  to  sensual   and  irregular  indulgence. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  generality  of  unbelievers  will  ap- 
pear to  be  persons  to  whom  the  subject  of  religion  is  on 
some  account  or  other,  unpleasant ;  who,  therefore,  give  but 
little  attention  to  it  or  its  evidences,  and  therefore  cannot  be 
deemed  competent  judges  of  them,  whatever  be  their  ability 
or  knowledge  in  other  respects.  A  great  proportion  of  them, 
it  cannot  be  denied,  are  also  profligate  and  licentious  in  their 


THE  PREVALENCE  OP  INFIDELITY.  137 

manners;  and  seldom  or  never  looking  to  God,  or  a  provi- 
dence, they  must  have  their  views  greatly  contracted,  and  of 
course  shew  other  symptoms  of  a  little  and  narrow  mind. 

If  any  persons  will  say  that  the  principles  of  Christianity 
tend  not  to  elevate  but  to  debase  the  human  character,  I 
cannot  help,  from  my  own  very  different  views  of  things, 
concluding  his  mind  is  under  some  very  improper  influence, 
such  as  prevents  his  forming  a  true  judgment  in  one  of  the 
clearest  of  cases.  If  he  be  capable  of  understanding  Hart- 
ley's Theory  of  the  Mind,  he  may  see  what  I  have  advanced 
on  this  subject  demonstrated,  as  far  as  any  thing  relating  to 
the  affections  of  the  mind  is  capable  of  demonstration.  He 
may  see  the  pleasures  of  sensation,  imagination,  ambition,  self- 
interest,  sympathy,  theopathy,  and  the  moral  sense,  rise  in 
due  gradation,  and  the  three  last-mentioned  to  coalesce  and 
absorb  the  former,  as  the  human  character  advances  in  excel- 
lence ;  the  consequence  of  which  is  a  capacity  for  higher 
and  more  durable  gratifications  with  respect  to  a  man's  self, 
and  superior  qualifications  and  dispositions  for  communica- 
ting happiness  to  others. 

Also,  the  great  views  opened  to  us  in  revelation,  and  in 
revelation  only,  are  necessary,  as  I  have  shewn  in  my  "  Dis- 
courses on  the  Evidence  of  Revealed  Religion,"  to  enlarge 
the  comprehension  of  the  human  mind,  and  thereby  to  give 
us  the  same  kind  of  superiority  over  other  men,  that  men  in 
general  have  over  brutes.  Unbelievers  in  revelation  and  a 
future  state  will  have  very  little  inducement  to  think  of  God, 
or  of  a  providence  ;  and  consequently,  with  very  few  excep- 
tions, they  become  not  only  practical,  but  speculative  atheists. 
It  is  impossible,  therefore,  that  they  should  attaiu  that  state 
of  habitual  devotion,  or  that  constant  regard  to  God,  that 
lively  sense  of  his  intimate  presence  with  them,  and  government 
over  them,  which  is  necessary  to  great  excellence  of  character, 
and  which  has  an  intimate  connexion  with  the  most  disin- 
terested and  active  benevolence. 


138  THE  PREVALENCE  OF  INFIDELITY. 

I  am  far,  however,  from  being  unwilling  to  acknowledge, 
that  there  are  many  persons,  of  whose  understandings  I  have 
the  highest  opinion,  but  whose  objects  of  attention  have  been 
wholly  different  from  mine,  who  will  be  so  far  from  concurring 
with  me  in  this  opinion,  of  the  superiority  of  the  Christian 
character,  that  they  will  treat  it  with  contempt ;  and  unless 
all  their  habits  of  living  and  thinking  (which  go  together), 
could  be  reversed,  there  is  no  prospect  of  leading  them  to 
entertain  different  ideas.  In  this  case  there  is  no  remedy. 
We  must  continue  to  differ.  They  will  make  light  of  my 
opinion  on  the  subject,  and  I  shall  consider  them  with  com- 
passion ;  hoping,  however,  that  in  a  future  period  of  their 
existence,  even  they  will  come  to  feel  and  think  as  I  do,  and 
that  we  shall  all  see  reason  to  rejoice  in  reflecting  on  the 
wonderful,  but  eventually  successful  methods,  by  which  such 
a  glorious  catastrophe  will  have  been  brought  about. 

Considering  the  many  disadvantages  luider  which  the  de- 
fence of  Christianity  now  labors,  especially  from  a  prevailing 
aversion  to  the  subject,  and  a  consequent  indisposition  to  give 
that  attention  to  its  evidences  which  the  importance  of  it 
requires ;  seeing  so  many  excellent  defences  of  it  pass  un- 
heeded, or  without  any  considerable  effect,  except  confirming 
the  faith  of  those  who  are  already  Christians ;  I  say,  judging 
from  this  aspect  of  things,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the 
final  triumph  which  is  destined  for  the  Christian  religion,  and 
which  is  the  subject  of  so  many  prophecies,  will  not  be  left  to  be 
accomplished  by  the  slow  process  of  argumentation  (which, 
however,  would  no  doubt  produce  the  same  effect  in  a  suffi- 
cient length  of  time),  but  by  another  age  of  miracles,  more 
illustrious  than  any  that  have  yet  been  displayed,  and  which 
is  also  the  subject  of  several  prophecies  ;  especially  that  of  Joel, 
quoted  by  Peter  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  which  I  do  not 
think  has  yet  had  its  proper  accomplishment.  "  It  shall 
come  to  pass  in  the  last  day,  that  I  will  pour  out  my 
spirit  on  all   flesh,"   &c. ;    and  that  this  glorious   time   will 


THE  PREVALENCE  OF  INFIDELITY.  139 

be  preceded  by  the  personal  appearance  of  Christ  descending 
in  the  clouds  of  heaven,  and  coming  to  exercise  his  proper 
kingdom. 

This  second  coming  of  Christ,  and  the  commencement  of 
the  millenium,  we  are  led  by  a  whole  series  of  prophecies 
to  expect  immediately  after  the  overthrow  of  the  present  Euro- 
pean monarchies,  which  are  evidently  tottering  to  their  base. 
Judging  also  by  what  we  see,  there  is  no  prospect  of  the  gen- 
eral conversion  of  the  Jews  but  in  such  a  manner  as  the  apos- 
tle Paul  was  converted,  that  is,  by  the  personal  appearance 
of  Christ  himself;  when,  and  not  before,  they  will  say, 
"Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

According  to  the  same  spirit  of  prophecy,  the  destruction 
of  popery,  or  Paul's  man  of  sin,  is  not  to  be  effected  but  by  the 
appearance  of  Christ  himself;  and  this  event  may  not  be  very 
distant.  In  short,  all  things  seem  to  be  approaching  in  an 
extraordinary  manner,  but  by  the  operation  of  natural  causes, 
to  the  very  state  that  v/as  foretold  so  many  ages  ago,  as  to 
precede  those  glorious  and  happy  times,  when  "  the  whole 
earth"  will  be  filled  with  "  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord;" 
when  there  will  be,  though  in  fact  here  below,  "  new  heav- 
ens and  a  new  earth,  in  which  will  dwell  righteousness." 

In  the  mean  time,  Christianity  will  serve  to  discriminate 
the  characters  of  men.  It  will  in  general  be  cheerfully  em- 
braced by  the  worthiest  and  the  best  of  men,  and  it  will  be 
the  means  of  making  them  worthier  and  better,  while  it  will 
be  rejected  by  the  unworthy  ;  and  this  rejection,  accompa- 
nied with  a  less  restrained  indulgence  of  their  appetites,  and 
their  giving  with  more  eagerness  into  a  variety  of  worldly 
pursuits,  will  tend  to  debase  their  character  stdl  more.  And, 
from  the  knowledge  that  I  have  of  men,  it  is  evident  to  me 
that  this  is  the  case  in  fact. 

That  Christianity  should  have  this  twofold  effect  is  not  ex- 
traordinary. It  is  necessarily  the  case,  in  the  wise  plan  of 
Providence,  with  every  other  means  of  virtuous  improvement. 
Neither  prosperity  nor  adversity  are  ever  sent  in  vain,  never 


140  THE  PREVALENCE  OF  INFIDELITY. 

leaving  any  man  as  they  found  him,  but  always  making  him 
either  better  or  worse.  Prosperity  may  either  make  a  man 
more  grateful  to  God,  and  more  benevolent  to  man  ;  or  it 
may  make  him  proud,  insolent,  and  unfeeling  ;  and  adversity 
may  either  make  him  humble  and  resigned,  or  fretful,  peev- 
ish, and  malevolent. 

The  intelligent  Christian  will  also  see  a  valuable  purpose 
answered  by  the  present  prevalence  of  infidelity.  It  is  a 
striking  fulfilment  of  the  prophecies  of  our  Saviour  ;  who, 
though  he  foretold  that  his  church  should  never  fail,  likewise 
intimated  that,  at  his  second  coming,  he  should  not  find  much 
faith  (or  a  general  belief  and  expectation  of  his  coming)  in 
the  eaith.  It  is  likewise  a  confirmation  of  what  the  apostles 
have  written  concerning  the  apostacy  of  the  latter  days.  In 
the  mean  time,  the  prevalence  of  infidelity  is  the  most  effica- 
cious means  of  purifying  our  religion  from  the  abuses  and 
corruptions  which  at  present  debase  it;  and  especially  of  over- 
turning the  civil  establishments  of  Christianity  in  all  Chris- 
tian countries,  whereby  the  kingdom  of  Christ  has  been  made 
a  kingdom  of  this  world,  having  been  made  subservient  to 
the  corrupt  policy  of  men,  and  in  every  respect  the  reverse  of 
what  it  originally  was. 

Thus  are  unbelievers  employed  by  Divine  Providence  to 
reform  the  Cliristian  church.  They  will  do  it  far  more  effec- 
tually than  its  friends  would  have  done;  and  this  will  pave 
the  way  for  its  universal  prevalence  hereafter.  Thus  the  cor- 
ruptions and  abuses  of  Christianity  produce  infidelity  ;  and 
this  infidelity  is  the  means,  in  the  wise  order  of  Providence, 
of  the  complete  cure  of  those  corruptions  and  abuses,  with 
only  a  temporary  and  partial  injury  to  that  religion,  of  which 
they  are  so  great  an  incumbrance. 


DUTY  OF  CHRISTIANS  RESPECTING  THE  PRESENT 
PREVALENCE  OF  INFIDELITY. 


In  this  state  of  the  open  rejection  of  Christianity  by 
so  many  persons  of  the  most  conspicuous  characters,  it  is  the 
peculiar  duty  of  every  Christian  to  make  the  most  open  pro- 
fession of  his  religion,  without  being  moved  by  the  apostacy 
of  ever  so  great  a  number,  or  the  obloquy  or  ridicule  to 
which  he  may  be  exposed  on  that  account ;  remembering  the 
awful  denunciation  of  our  Saviour,  "  Whosoever  shall  be 
ashamed  of  me,  and  of  my  words  —  of  him  also  will  the  Son 
of  Man  be  ashamed,  when  he  cometh  in  the  glory  of  his 
Father,  with  the  holy  angels." 

In  order  to  make  this  open  profession  of  Christianity  to 
the  most  advantage,  it  is  necessary  that  Christians  should 
assemble  for  the  purpose  of  public  worship,  though  in  the 
smallest  numbers  ;  letting  it  be  known  that  there  is  such 
worship,  and  that  others  may  attend  if  they  please.  A 
Christian  who  is  not  known  to  be  such,  except  by  the  general 
uprightness  of  his  conduct,  will  no  doubt  be  respected,  but 
not  as  a  Christian.  It  will  not  be  known  on  what  principles 
he  acts,  and  therefore  others  will  be  but  little  wiser  or  better 
by  his  means.  But  a  Christian  church,  a  number  of  persons 
regularly  meeting  as  such,  to  encourage  and  edify  one 
another,  reading  the  Scriptures,  and  administering  Christian 
ordinances,  is,  as  our  Saviour  said,  "  a  city  set  on  a  hill," 
which  "  cannot  be  hid  ;  "  and  when  our  light  thus  shines 
before  men,  others  will  not  only  see  our  good  works,  but  also 
the  principles  from  which  they  proceed,   and   thus  be  led  to 


142  DUTY  OF  CHRISTIANS  RESPECTING  THE 

glorify  our  Father  who  is  in  heaven.  For  the  same  reason, 
when  a  spurious  and  corrupt  Christianity  is  most  prevalent, 
the  more  intelligent  Christians  should  separate  themselves, 
and  form  other  societies  for  public  worship,  that  unbelievers 
may  have  an  opportunity  of  judging  between  them,  and  not 
be  led  to  take  it  for  granted  that  there  is  no  Christianity,  but 
such  as  they  perhaps  justly  reject. 

Every  Christian  shoulr),  as  far  as  possible,  make  him- 
self master  of  the  arguments  in  favor  of  his  religion,  that  he 
may  appear  not  to  be  governed  by  a  principleof  implicit  faith, 
but,  as  the  apostle  Peter  says,  "  be  ready  always  to  give  an 
answer  to  every  man  that  asketh  him  a  reason  of  the  hope 
that  is  in  him."  And  the  main  argument  for  the  truth  of 
Christianity  (but  from  tie  discussion  of  which  all  unbelievers 
have  hitherto  shrunk)  is  very  plain  and  intelligible.  It  is  the 
certain  belief  of  the  great  facts  on  which  it  is  founded,  by 
those  wlio  must  have  known  the  truth  of  the  case,  and  who 
were  most  nearly  interested  to  ascertain  it.  If,  on  such  un- 
deniable evidence,  it  be  true,  that  Christ  wrought  real  mira- 
cles, that  he  died  and  rose  from  the  dead,  the  Christian  reli- 
gion is  true  ;  and  we  may  depend  upon  it  that,  according  to 
his  repeated  declarations,  he  will  come  again,  to  raise  all  the 
dead,  to  judge  the  world,  and  to  give  to  every  ma«  according 
to  his  works,  (which  is  all  that  is  of  most  consequence  in 
Christianity,)  whatever  unbelievers  may  find  to  object  to  the 
system  in  other  respects. 

But  we  should  most  carefully  bear  in  mind,  that  in  the 
defence  of  Christianity,  as  in  our  whole  conduct,  we  should 
show  a  disposition  worthy  of  it.  Besides  that  uniform  supe- 
riority of  mind  to  this  world,  which  removes  us  to  the  great- 
est distance  from  every  thing  mean  and  base  ;  besides  that 
spirit  of  habitual  devotion  and  universal  benevolence  which 
raises  the  human  character  to  the  highest  pitch  of  moral  e.K- 
cellence,  (of  the  most  important  elements  of  which,  unbeliev- 
ers, who  have  not  the  enlarged  views  that  Christianity  opens 
to  us,  are  necessarily  destitute,)  let  our  behaviour  towards 


PRESENT  PREVALENCE  OF  INFIDELITY.  143 

unbelievers  themselves  be  the  reverse  of  what  theirs  generally 
is  towards  Christians,  and  which  is  so  conspicuous  in  the 
writings  of  Voltaire  and  others.  Let  there  be  nothing  in  it 
of  their  sarcastic  turn  of  mind,  which  implies  both  contempt 
and  malevolence.  Let  it  be  with  that  meekness  and  benevo- 
lence which  the  apostles  so  strongly  recommended.  (1  Peter, 
iii.  15;  2  Tim.  ii.  25.)  Let  every  thing  we  say  on  the  subject, 
or  do  with  respect  to  it,  discover  the  greatest  good-will  and 
friendly  concern  for  those  who  differ  from  us,  though  in  a 
matter  of  so  much  consequence.  Let  us  consider  them  as 
persons  who  are  unhappily  misled  by  false  views  of  things, 
and  whom,  if  they  be  of  a  candid  disposition,  a  juster  view 
will  set  right;  but  whom  an  angry  or  contemptuous  opposition 
would  irritate  and  alienate  more  than  ever. 

Let  us  regard  Christianity  itself  as  only  a  means  of  virtue 
and  moral  improvement,  and  therefore  let  us  rejoice  if  infi- 
delity do  not  (as,  however,  it  is  too  apt  to  do),  lead  men  into 
vice.  Unbelievers  may  be  men  of  decent  and  valuable  char- 
acters, though  destitute  of  the  more  sublime  virtues  which 
give  the  greatest  dignity  to  human  nature,  and  fit  them  in  a 
more  eminent  manner  for  the  peculiar  employment,  and  the 
peculiar  happiness,  of  a  future  state.  Let  us  also  indulge  the 
pleasing  hope,  that  hereafter,  though  not  at  present,  their 
minds,  if  not  essentially  depraved,  wanting  only  that  farther 
light  which  will  irresistibly  burst  upon  tliem  hereafter,  they 
will  be  every  thing  that  we  can  wish  for  them ;  and  therefore 
that,  though  we  differ  at  present,  we  shall  sometime  hence 
rejoice  together.  We  are  all  brethren,  children  of  the  same 
Father ;  and  though  differing  ever  so  much  in  other  respects, 
should  regard  and  love  one  another  as  such.  Besides,  how 
can  we  show  our  superiority  or  greater  comprehension  of 
mind,  arising  from  a  habit  of  attending  to  great  and  distant 
objects  and  looking  beyond  ourselves,  but  by  greater  meek- 
ness, forbearance,  candor,  and  benevolence  towards  men  ;  as 
well  as  by  greater  resignation,   and   habitual  devotion  with 


144  DUTY  OF  CHRISTIANS  RESPECTING  THE 

respect  to  God,  and  a  greater  command  over  our  appetites 
and  passions  in  general  ? 

We  should  ever  bear  in  mind,  thiat  superior  knowledge 
implies  superior  obligations.  As  to  believe  in  a  God,  and  yet 
live  as  without  God  in  the  world,  is  worse  than  being  an 
atheist ;  so  to  profess  Christianity,  while  its  principles  have 
no  influence  upon  us,  not  improving  our  dispositions  and  con- 
duct, is  much  worse  than  not  to  believe  it  at  all.  A  profli- 
gate unbeliever  is  much  more  excusable  than  a  worldly- 
minded,  immoral  Christian,  a  Christian  destitute  of  candor 
and  benevolence. 

Christians  surrounded  by  unbelievers,  perhaps  without 
any  opportunity  of  attending  public  worship,  and  the  received 
custom  of  the  times  excluding  the  mention  of  any  thing  re- 
lating to  religion  in  conversation,  should  be  careful  to  con- 
firm and  strengthen  their  own  faith  by  a  voluntary  attention 
to  the  principles  and  evidences  of  it.  Faith,  as  Dr.  Hartley 
has  shown,  admits  of  degrees  ;  and  between  a  merely  rational 
faith  (or  the  simple  assent  of  the  mind  to  a  speculative  truth), 
and  practical  faith  (or  that  cordial  reception  of  it  which 
warms  the  heart  and  influences  the  conduct),  the  difference  is 
almost  infinite.  The  former,  as  it  respects  Christianity,  is  of 
very  little  value,  as  we  see  in  the  generality  of  Christians, 
who  being  wholly  immersed  in  the  aff'airs  of  the  world,  and 
giving  little  or  no  attention  to  their  Christian  principles,  are 
little,  if  at  all,  the  better  for  them.  Nay,  they  are  the  more 
criminal  on  this  account ;  being  possessed  of  so  great  a  treas- 
ure, and  making  no  proper  use  of  it.  The  latter  only  is  that 
faith  which  the  apostle  says,  works  by  love,  which  purities  the 
heart  and  reforms  the  life  ;  and  it  cannot  be  formed  and  kept 
up  in  the  actual  circumstances  of  life,  without  great  and  un- 
remitted attention. 

A  person,  therefore,  who  wishes  to  be  a  Christian  to  any 
good  purpose,  must  make  it  his  daily  practice  to  read  the 
Scriptures,  and  other   books  which  tend  to  interest  him  in 


PRESENT  PREVALENCE  OF  INFIDELITY.  145 

their  contents.  Much  of  the  time  that  his  necessary  busi- 
ness, whatever  it  be,  allows  for  reading,  lie  will  with  peculiar 
satisfaction  devote  to  this ;  and  he  will  not  satisfy  himself 
with  saying  that,  having  once  read  the  Scriptures  and  well 
enough  remembering  their  general  contents,  he  has  no  occa- 
sion to  look  into  them  any  more.  The  consequence  of  the 
frequent  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  and  books  relating  to 
Christianity,  will  be,  that  his  religion,  or  something  relating 
to  it,  will  be  the  subject  to  which  his  thoughts  will  naturally 
turn,  whenever  the  business  of  life  does  not  call  them  an- 
other way  ;  and  even  in  the  midst  of  business  he  will  have 
many  moments  of  pleasing  and  serious  reflection,  which  will 
have  a  happy  effect  in  preserving  that  equanimity  which  is 
so  desirable  amidst  the  vicissitudes  of  this  life,  preventing 
undue  elation  in  prosperity,  and  depression  in  adversity  ;  from 
that  sense  of  the  wise  and  impartial  providence  of  God  super- 
intending all  events,  and  the  happy  termination  to  which  all 
things  arc  tending,  which  this  practice  will  naturally  impress 
upon  his  mind. 

If  a  Christian  have  any  friends,  whose  views  of  things  are 
similar  to  his  own,  he  will  naturally  resort  to  them,  and  they 
will  strengthen  each  other's  faith,  hope,  and  joy,  by  convers- 
ing on  the  subject  of  religion  ;  as  persons  of  the  same  senti- 
ments and  views  in  politics,  inflame  their  ardor  in  a  common 
cause  by  frequent  intercourse  and  conversations.  I  am  even 
not  altogether  without  hope,  that  this  open  rejection  of  Chris- 
tianity by  such  great  numbers,  and  the  contempt  with  which 
it  is  treated  by  them,  will  operate  like  persecution  of  other 
kinds,  and  animate  the  zeal  of  its  rational  and  steady  friends  ; 
and  also,  that  this  zeal  may  lead  to  methods  of  extending  the 
knowledge  of  Christianity  and  its  evidences,  to  others  who 
are  but  imperfectly  acquainted  with  them,  which  may  end  in 
the  rechristianizing  of  the  world,  and  that  on  principles  bet- 
ter founded,  and  therefore  more  stable  than  ever. 

But  to  effect  this  desirable  end,  it  is  necessary,  that  Chris- 
tians make  their  religion  a  primary  object,  and  consider  every 
10 


146  DUTY  OF  CHRISTIANS  RESPECTING  THE 

thing  relating  to  this  life  as  subordinate  to  it ;  as,  if  there  be 
a  future  life,  of  so  much  more  value  than  this,  they  reasona- 
bly ought  to  do.  Let  "the  children  of  this  world,"  as  our 
Saviour  calls  them,  give  their  whole  attention,  as  they  do,  to 
the  perishable  things  of  it;  but  let  "the  children  of  light," 
the  heirs  of  immortality,  habitually  look  above  and  beyond  it, 
to  that  "treasure  in  heaven  which  faileth  not,"  that  "inheri- 
tance which  is  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  which  fadeth  not 
away,"  not  indeed  the  object  of  sense,  but  of  faith,  and  surely 
reserved  in  heaven  for  us. 

There  is  no  great  danger  of  leading  any  person  by  these 
representations  to  make  his  religion  too  much  an  object,  so 
as  to  neglect  the  proper  business  of  this  life  ;  though,  with 
some  persons  of  a  peculiarly  melancholy  turn  of  mind,  and 
especially  after  meeting  with  misfortunes  in  life,  this  has 
been  the  case.  The  constant  presence  of  things  seen  and 
temporal,  gives  them  a  decided  advantage  over  things  unseen, 
though  eternal,  especially  in  these  times,  in  which  all  monk- 
ish maxims  are  justly  exploded,  and  the  duties  of  all  intelli- 
gent Christians  connect  them  with  the  world  and  the  business 
of  it;  so  that  we  cannot  have  any  serious  apprehension  of  this 
inconvenience,  which,  however,  it  is  proper  to  guard  against. 
Indeed,  I  cannot  conceive  that  any  of  those  whom  I  call 
rational  Christians,  whose  religion  is  free  from  the  gross  ab- 
surdities that  have  long  prevailed  in  the  Christian  world,  and 
which  have  brought  it  into  the  state  of  discredit  in  which  it 
now  is,  are  in  any  danger  of  this  extreme  ;  and  these  are  the 
only  persons  by  whom  I  have  any  expectation  that  an  ad- 
dress from  me  will  be  attended  to. 

Lastly,  let  the  rational  Christian,  who  justly  disclaims 
such  doctrines  as  those  of  original  sin,  arbitrary  predestina- 
tion, the  Trinity,  and  vicarious  satisfaction,  as  the  grossest 
corruptions  of  his  religion,  and  the  principal  cause  of  its  pre- 
sent rejection,  (and  which  on  this  account  his  regard  for 
Christianity  requires  that  he  should  take  every  opportunity 
of  exposing,)  be  equally  prepared  to  meet  the  too  vehement 


PRESENT  PREVALENCE  OF  INFIDELITY.  147 

zeal  of  the  defenders  of  these  doctrines  (who  are  at  present 
the  great  majority  of  the  nominally  Christian  world),  persons 
who  will  not  scruple  to  treat  him  as  a  deist  or  atheist ;  and 
also  the  hatred  of  the  real  deists  and  atheists  of  the  age. 
For  if  he  be  zealous  and  active  in  promoting  what  he  deems 
to  be  pure  Christianity,  their  sentiments  concerning  him  will 
not  deserve  a  softer  name.  However  the  malignity  of  both 
are  alike  insignificant,  considering  the  great  object  we  have 
in  view,  and  they  are  infinitely  overbalanced  by  the  solid  sat- 
isfaction which  arises  from  the  cordial  esteem  of  a  small  num- 
ber of  judicious  Christian  friends,  who  will  approve  of  our 
conduct,  and  join  us  in  it ;  to  say  nothing  of  the  exquisite 
delight  which  arises  from  the  consciousness  of  a  steady  and 
undaunted  pursuit  of  what  is  true  and  right,  the  hope  we 
entertain  of  the  approbation  of  our  Maker,  and  the  glorious 
reward  of  immortality. 


SUPERIOR  VALUE  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 


So  little  of  religion,  properly  so  called,  have  men  ever  de- 
rived from  the  light  of  Nature,  and  so  little  are  those  who  re- 
ject Revelation  really  influenced  by  any  religious  principle,  that 
the  true  state  of  the  question,  in  fact,  is,  whether  it  he  better 
for  man  to  have  the  religion  that  is  taught  in  the  Scriptures, 
or  none  at  all.  They  who  reject  revelation  may  not  absolutely, 
and  in  words,  reject  the  belief  of  a  God  and  of  a  providence  ; 
(though  we  see  in  the  example  of  the  French  philosophers, 
and  many  others,  that  this  is  generally  the  case  ;)  they  are  not 
influenced  by  that  belief  Nor  can  we  wonder  at  this,  when 
they  certainly  have  not,  in  fact,  any  expectation  of  a  future 
state,  which,  as  I  shall  shew,  was  never  taught  to  any  useful 
purpose  but  by  revelation.  Religion  implies  the  belief  of  the 
being  and  providence  of  God,  and  such  a  respect  for  the  will 
of  God  as  will  effectually  control  a  man's  natural  inclinations, 
and  direct  his  conduct;  restraining  him  from  irregularities  to 
which  he  is  naturally  prone,  and  exciting  him  to  actions  to 
which  he  is  naturally  averse.  But  as  men  in  general  are 
governed  either  by  strong  natural  appetites,  or  a  vjew  to  their 
interest,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  virtue  alone,  without  any 
hope  of  future  reward  or  punishment,  can  have  such  charms 
for  them,  that  they  will  abandon  their  pleasure,  their  ease,  or 
their  advantage,  for  the  pure  love  of  it.  Supposing  that  men 
miffht  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  the  will  of  God  with  respect 
to  their  conduct  in  life  ;  they  would  not  feel  any  sufficient  obli- 
gation to  conform  to  it,  without  the  great  sanction  of  future 
rewards  and  punishments.     Mere  authority,  as  that  of  a  pa- 


SUPERIOR  VALUE  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.        149 

rent,  or  of  a  magistrate,  is  little  or  nothing  without  the  power 
of  rewarding  and  punishing.  Nothing,  therefore,  but  a  firm 
belief  in  a  future  state  of  retribution  can  be  expected  to 
restrain  men  from  giving  into  those  indulgences  to  which  they 
have  a  strong  propensity. 

1.  With  respect  to  every  article  of  religion,  the  light  of 
nature  is  far  from  being  sufficiently  clear  and  distinct,  so  as  to 
be  inferred  with  certainty  by  the  most  intelligent  of  men. 
With  respect  to  what  is  most  essential  to  human  happiness, 
the  wisest  of  men  do  not  appear  to  have  been,  in  fact,  supe- 
rior to  the  bulk ;  having,  in  a  variety  of  respects,  laid  down  the 
most  erroneous  rules  for  the  conduct  of  men.  Plain  as  the 
most  important  maxims  of  morality  are,  there  is  not  one  of 
them,  but  what  the  most  enlightened  not  only  of  the  ancient 
philosophers,  but  of  modern  unbelievers,  have  controverted. 
What  we  call  conscience,  and  which  we  might  expect  to  be  a 
better  guide,  in  this  respect,  than  even  reason,  is  by  no  means 
the  same  uniform  principle  in  all  men.  It  is  formed  by  vari- 
ous associations  of  ideas,  depending  on  the  circumstances  of 
our  education,  so  that  things  which  absolutely  shock  some 
persons,  are  not  felt  as  at  all  improper  by  others.  There  is, 
therefore,  something  wanted  superior  to  the  dictates  of  reason, 
or  natural  conscience;  and  this  can  only  be  revealed  religion, 
or  the  authority  of  our  Maker,  which  must  be  obeyed  without 
reasoning.  Men  will,  no  doubt,  dispute  even  about  the  will 
of  God, when  it  is  most  clearly  revealed,  as  they  do  concerning 
the  most  express  laws  that  are  ever  made  by  men  ;  but  if  this 
be  done  with  respect  to  the  articulate  voice  of  God,  it  will  be 
done  to  a  much  greater  extent,  and  with  much  more  plausibil- 
ity, to  the  inarticulate  voice  of  nature,  which  every  person 
will  interpret  as  he  is  previously  inclined. 

If,  when  men  are  hurried  on  by  passion  or  swayed  by 
interest,  they  will  transgress  such  positive  and  acknowledged 
commands,  as  thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery,  thou  shalt  not 
steal,  &c.,  as  we  see  that,  in  fact,  they  do,  it  will  not,  how- 
ever, be  without  reluctance  and  remorse ;  and  therefore,  trans- 


150  SUPERIOR  VALUE  OP  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

gressions  will  be  less  frequent  and  less  flagrant,  and  repent- 
ance and  amendment  may  be  more  reasonably  expected  to 
follow.  But,  where  no  such  positive  command  is  acknowl- 
edged to  exist,  and  the  voice  of  nature  alone  is  to  be  con- 
sulted about  the  proper  conduct  of  life,  most  men  will  mis- 
take their  own  inclination  for  the  voice  of  nature,  and  con- 
sequently sin  without  reluctance  or  remorse.  Of  this  it  would 
be  easy  to  give  instances  in  the  clearest  of  all  cases ;  but  this 
would  take  up  too  much  of  our  time,  and  something  of  this 
was  mentioned  in  my  last  discourse. 

2.  Still  less  would  men,  by  the  mere  light  of  nature,  have 
ever  attained  to  any  satisfactory  conclusion  with  respect  to 
the  ultimate  design  of  the  Author  of  nature  in  the  formation 
of  man.  I  mean  the  prolongation  of  his  existence  beyond 
the  grave.  On  this  most  interesting  of  all  questions  nature  is 
altogether  silent.  Judging  from  appearances,  as  the  brutes  die, 
so  does  man  ;  and  all  his  faculties  and  powers  die  with  him. 
That  at  death  any  thing  escapes,  unaffected  by  this  catas- 
trophe, is  a  mere  arbitrary  supposition,  unsupported  by  any 
appearance,  or  probability  of  any  kind. 
*  *  * 

Supposing  that  it  were  possible,  by  the  mere  light  of  nature, 
to  arrive  at  the  belief  of  a  future  state  ;  yet  judging  from 
present  appearances,  it  could  not  be  the  future  state  announced 
in  the  Scriptures,  a  state  in  which  virtue  will  find  an  ample 
recompence,  and  vice  its  just  punishment,  but  only  such  a 
life  as  this  and  in  all  other  respects  resembling  the  present; 
which  is  the  belief  of  the  North-American  Indians,  and  most 
other  barbarous  nations.  If,  because  we  dislike  any  thing  in 
the  present  system,  we  entertain  an  idea  that  the  incon- 
venience complained  of  will  be  removed  in  a  future  state ; 
where  is  the  evidence  that,  under  the  same  powers  or  prin- 
ciples of  nature,  whatever  they  are,  things  will  be  ordered  in 
a  better  manner  1  Is  it  possible  to  infer  from  what  we  see 
(and  we  have  nothing  else  by  which  to  guide  our  conjectures), 
that   those   evils   which   the  Author  of  nature   has  thought 


SUPERIOR  VALUE  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.       151 

proper,  for  whatever  reason,  to  introduce  or  to  permit  here, 
will  not  be  continued  there  also?  If  we  say,  that  it  is  not 
agreeable  to  justice  that  good  and  bad  men  should  be  treated 
as  they  are  here  ;  where  is  the  evidence,  from  any  present  ap- 
pearances, that  the  Author  of  nature  intended  that  they 
should  ever  be  treated  otherwise  1  Left  to  the  light  of  nature, 
we  could  only  reason  from  what  we  know,  and  this  would  lead 
us  to  expect  that,  if  there  be  any  life  after  death,  it  will  be 
similar  to  the  present.  It  is  only  from  the  express  assurance 
of  the  Author  of  nature,  communicated  by  revelation,  that 
we  believe  the  future  state  will  be  better  than  the  present, 
that  in  it  the  righteous  will  be  fully  rewarded,  and  the  wicked 
punished.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  when  we  abandon 
revelation,  we  give  up  all  religion  properly  so  called,  all  that 
can  have  any  salutary  influence  on  the  hearts  and  lives  of 
men. 

3.  With  respect  to  men,  there  is  certainly  a  great  advan- 
tage in  precepts  and  commands,  promises  and  threatenings, 
being  delivered  in  tcwrds,  proceeding  as  from  a  real  person, 
it  being  by  this  means  that  instructions  are  delivered  with  the 
greatest  distinctness.  It  may,  indeed,  be  said,  and  with 
truth,  that  nature  speaks  to  men  and  that  nature  teaches 
and  nature  threatens;  but,  besides  that  the  information  is 
more  indistinctly  communicated,  it  is  in  a  manner  less  apt  to 
make  an  impression  and  command  respect.  It  is,  therefore, 
of  great  advantage  that  the  attention  of  men  be  directed  to 
something  beyond  mere  nature,  viz.  to  the  Author  and  Lord 
of  nature  ;  and  that  he  be  considered  not  as  an  allegorical  per- 
sonage, but  a  real,  intelligent  Being,  capable  of  communi- 
cating his  will  in  words,  and  such  signs  as  men  are  daily 
accustomed  to,  and  apt  to  be  impressed  by. 

Besides,  all  men  feel  an  unavoidable  propensity  to  address 
themselves  to  the  Being  on  whom  they  depend ;  and  without 
some  mode  of  intercourse  with  him,  they  would  soon  lose 
sight  of  him,  as  a  child  would  of  his  father,  if  he  never  saw 
him,  and  had  no  access  to  him.     Without  an  idea  of  God, 


152 


SUPERIOR  VALUE   OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 


different  from  what  we  could  collect  from  the  contemplation 
of  nature,  there  would  be  no  such  thing  hs  pi'ayer.  Indeed, 
unbelievers  in  revelation  ridicule  the  idea  of  prayer  as  unnat- 
ural and  absurd,  though  all  nations,  without  exception,  have 
had  recourse  to  it ;  which  is  a  clear  proof  that  it  is  natural, 
as  every  thing  that  is  universal  must  be. 

Authority  is  best  supported  by  a  mixture  of  affection,  but 
there  cannot  be  any  thing  of  this  except  towards  a  being  re- 
sembling other  beings  which  have  been  the  object  of  our 
affection,  and  which  have  engaged  our  confidence.  And  in 
revelation,  but  by  no  means  in  nature,  the  Supreme  Being 
appears  to  us  in  the  familiar  character  of  a  parent,  —  a  person 
with  whom  we  can  have  communication  who  may  be  con- 
ceived to  be  always  present  with  us,  who  encourages  us  to 
address  ourselves  to  him,  who  always  hears  us,  and  some- 
times answers  us.  By  this  means  God  easily  becomes  the 
object  of  real  affection  and  attachment.  Here  we  find  a  solid 
foundation  for  love  and  fear,  which  arc  the  chief  motives  for 
men's  actions. 

*  *  * 

4.  They  who  give  so  decided  a  preference  to  the  light  of 
nature,  the  appearances  of  which  are  uniform,  to  that  of  rev- 
elation, which  supposes  an  occasional  departure  from  the 
usual  course  of  nature,  betray  their  ignorance  of  the  nature 
of  man,  by  whom  all  uniform  appearances  are  apt  to  be  disre- 
garded, but  who  never  fail  to  be  struck  by  what  is  unusual. 
Does  not  every  human  being  see  the  regular  rising  and  setting 
of  the  sun,  the  periodical  returns  of  summer  and  winter,  seed- 
time and  harvest;  but  how  few  ever  think  of  the  wisdom  or 
benevolence  of  these  appointments  !  They  content  themselves 
with  observing  effects,  and  directing  their  conduct  by  them, 
without  ever  reflecting  on  the  cause.  But  whenever  any  thing 
unusual  happens,  when  comets  arr;  seen,  or  eclipses  of  the 
sun  or  moon  take  place,  their  attention  is  forcibly  arrested  ; 
and  after  reflecting  on  the  cause  of  the  extraordinary  appear- 
ances, they  may  be  induced  to  give  some  attention  to  those 


SUPERIOR  VALUE  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.        153 

that  are  constant.     I   shall  illustrate  this  by  a   case  which   I 
have  put  on  a  former  occasion. 

Let  a  person  unacquainted  with  clocks,  watches,  and  other 
machines,  be  introduced  into  a  room  containing  many  of  them, 
all  in  regular  motion.  He  sees  no  maker  of  these  machines, 
and  knows  nothing  of  their  internal  structure  ;  and  as  he 
sees  them  all  to  move  with  perfect  regularity,  he  may  say,  on 
the  principles  of  the  atheistical  system,  that  they  are  auto- 
mata, or  self-moving  machines ;  aild  so  long  as  all  these  ma- 
chines continue  in  regular  motion,  and  he  knows  nothing  of 
the  making  of  them,  or  the  winding  of  them  up,  this  theory 
may  appear  plausible. 

But  let  us  suppose  that,  coming  into  this  room  again  and 
again,  and  always  attending  to  the  machines,  he  shall  find 
one  of  them  much  out  of  order,  and  that  at  length  its  motion 
shall  entirely  cease  ;  but  that,  after  continuing  in  this  state 
some  time,  he  shall  again  find  it  in  perfect  order,  moving  as 
regularly  as  ever.  Will  he  not  then  conclude  that  some  per- 
son, whom  he  has  not  seen,  but  probably  the  maker  of  the 
machines,  had  been  in  the  room  in  his  absence  ?  The  res- 
toration of  motion  to  the  disordered  machine  would  impress 
his  mind  with  the  idea  of  a  maker  of  them,  in  a  much  more 
forcible  mannrr  than  his  observing  the  regular  construction 
and  uniform  motion  of  them.  It  must  convince  him  of  the 
existence  of  some  person  capable  of  regulating,  and,  there- 
fore, probably  of  making  these  machines,  whether  he  should 
ever  see  this  person  or  not. 

Thus  do  miracles  prove  the  existence  of  a  God,  in  a  shorter 
and  more  satisfactory  manner  than  the  observation  of  the 
uninterrupted  course  of  nature.  If  there  be  a  Being  who 
can  control  the  course  of  nature,  there  must  be  one  who 
originally  established  it ;  in  whatever  difficulty  we  may  still 
be  left  with  respect  to  his  nature,  and  the  manner  of  his  exis- 
tence. 

*  *  # 

5.  No  less  are  they  mistaken  who  imagine  that  the  evidences 


154 


SUPERIOR  VALUE   OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 


of  revealed  religion  have  more  of  difficulty  in  them  than  those 
of  natural  religion  ;  by  which  we  mean  the  arguments  from 
nature,  for  the  being,  perfections,  and  providence  of  God. 
On  the  contrary,  far  greater  difficulties  occur  with  respect  to 
these,  than  with  respect  to  the  others,  and  all  that  can  be  said 
is,  that  great  difficulties  must  give  way  to  greater.  Far  am  I 
from  supposing  that  the  evidence  for  the  being  of  a  God  is 
not  demonstrative,  since  marks  of  design,  with  which  the 
world  abounds,  necessarily  imply  a  designing  or  intelligent 
cause.  But  notwithstanding  this,  we  can  never  fully  satisfy 
ourselves  with  respect  to  the  objection  of  the  atheist,  that  if 
the  universe  require  a  cause,  this  cause  must  require  another ; 
and  if  the  author  of  nature,  or  the  being  we  call  God,  exist 
without  a  cause,  so  may  the  universe  itself 

All  we  can  say  in  answer  to  this  is,  that  whatever  difficulty 
we  may  labor  under  with  respect  to  this  subject,  which  will 
always  be  above  our  comprehension,  the  actual  existence  of 
a  visible  world,  and  of  marks  of  design  in  it,  cannot  be  de- 
nied, and,  therefore,  whether  we  be  able  to  proceed  any 
farther  or  not,  we  must  acknowledge  a  designing  cause ; 
otherwise  we  might  say  that  a  house  had  no  architect,  or  a 
child  no  father.  If  the  eye  of  a  man  require  no  designing 
cause,  neither  would  a  telescope,  which  is  an  instrument  of  a 
similar  nature,  evidently  adapted  to  answer  a  similar  purpose. 
And  at  this  supposition  every  mind  would  revolt. 

More  and  greater  difficulties  occur  when  we  proceed  to 
the  consideration  of  the  unity,  the  omnipresence,  the  constant 
agency,  and,  what  is  of  more  consequence  still,  the  benevo- 
lence of  the  Supreme  Being,  on  the  principles  of  the  light  of 
nature.  So  forcibly  were  the  minds  of  men,  in  the  early 
ages,  impressed  with  a  view  of  the  evils  which  abound  in  the 
world,  and  so  inconsistent  did  they  conceive  them  to  be  with 
the  designs  of  a  benevolent  Author,  that  they  supposed  there 
was  an  original  principle  of  Evil,  independent  of  that  of  Good. 
And  they  who  supposed  there  was  a  multiplicity  of  deities 
(to  which  they  were  led  by  the  extent  and  variety  they  ob- 


SUPERIOR  VALUE  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.        155 

served  in  the  works  of  nature),  imagined  some  of  them  to  be 
of  a  benevolent,  and  others  of  a  malevolent  disposition.  That 
the  Author  of  nature  is  one,  that  he  is  simply,  invariably, 
and  infinitely  good,  and  that  all  the  evils  we  see  and  experi- 
ence are  calculated  to  promote  good,  are  great  and  sublime 
truths,  which  we  derive  from  revelation  only ;  though,  on  a 
strict  examination,  they  appear  not  to  be  inconsistent  with 
the  appearances  in  nature. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  evidences  of  revelation  are  level  to 
every  capacity.  That  it  is  the  Author  of  nature  who  inter- 
poses, must  be  evident  from  every  interruption  of  the  usual 
course  of  it;  for  no  other  than  he  who  established  the  laws  of 
nature  can  control  them  ;  and  though  there  may  be  some 
difficulty  in  distinguishing  some  preternatural  appearances 
from  such  as  are  merely  unusual,  this  cannot  be  the  case  with 
respect  to  numberless  others.  If  it  was  a  fact  that  the  Israel- 
ites walked  through  the  Red  Sea  and  the  river  Jordan  ;  if  all 
the  first-born  of  the  Egyptians,  and  the  first-born  only,  of  man 
and  beast,  died  in  one  night,  and  that  announced  before- 
hand ;  if  an  articulate  voice  was  actually  heard  to  pronounce 
the  ten  commandments  from  Mount  Sinai,  so  as  to  be  heard 
by  two  millions  of  people,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  a  Divine 
interposition  in  any  of  the  cases.  And  the  same  may  be  said 
of  numberless  other  facts  in  the  Scripture  history.  If  the 
facts  be  ascertained,  there  can  be  no  doubt  concerning  their 
cause. 

Now,  all  facts  may  be  ascertained  by  sufficient  testimony, 
or  that  of  a  competent  number  of  credible  witnesses  ;  that  is, 
of  persons  who  were  in  circumstances  not  to  be  imposed  upon 
themselves,  and  who  had  no  apparent  motive  to  impose  upon 
others.  This  is  fully  equal  to  the  evidence  of  a  man's  own 
senses.  Nay,  there  are  many  persons  who  would  distrust 
their  own  eyes  and  ears,  rather  than  those  of  other  persons, 
who,  they  thought,  were  better  judges  than  themselves. 

Though  single  persons  may  be  imposed  upon  in  a  variety 
of  ways,  or  may  take  it  into  their  heads,  for  reasons  which  it 


156 


SUPERIOR  VALUE  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 


is  not  in  the  power  of  any  man  to  investigate,  to  impose  upon 
others  ;  this  can  never  be  said  to  be  the  case  with  respect  to 
thousands  who  believe,  or  attest,  things  evidently  contrary  to 
their  interest  and  previous  inclinations.  That  great  numbers 
of  persons,  and  others  in  succession  to  them  (all  of  whom  had 
sufficient  opportunity  to  investigate  any  particular  fact,  which 
required  no  other  evidence  than  that  of  the  senses,  and  who 
were  interested  in  the  investigation,  their  fortunes  or  their 
lives  depending  upon  it)  should  persist  in  their  attestation  of 
it  would  be  a  greater  miracle,  more  contrary  to  what  we 
know  of  human  nature,  than  any  fact  contained  in  the  Scrip- 
ture history. 

As  to  the  evidence  of  a  future  state,  what  are  all  the  argu- 
ments derived  from  the  light  of  nature  compared  to  that 
which  is  furnished  by  the  gospel,  which  is  therefore  justly 
said  to  "  bring  life  and  immortality  to  light  "  1  There  we 
see  a  person  commissioned  by  God,  teaching  the  doctrine 
with  the  greatest  plainness  and  emphasis,  enforcing  it  by  mir- 
acles, among  which  was  the  raising  of  several  persons  from  a 
state  of  doath  to  life  ;  and,  what  was  infinitely  more,  submit- 
ting to  die  himself  in  the  most  public  and  indisputable  man- 
ner, and  rising  to  life  again  at  a  fixed  time.  Had  mankind 
in  general  been  asked  what  evidence  would  satisfy  them,  they 
could  not  have  demanded  more. 

Whether,  therefore,  we  consider  the  precepts  of  religion, 
that  is,  the  rules  of  a  virtuous  and  happy  life,  the  authority 
requisite  to  enforce  the  observance  of  them,  the  motives  by 
which  they  are  enforced,  or  the  evidence  of  their  truth,  re- 
vealed religion  has  unspeakably  the  advantage  of  natural ; 
and  therefore  so  far  is  the  scheme  of  revelation  from  being 
improbable  a  priori,  that  it  must  appear  such  as  a  wise  and 
good  Being,  who  was  acquainted  with  human  nature,  and 
wished  to  engage  the  attention  of  men,  and  impress  their 
minds  with  sentiments  of  reverence  of  himself,  and  respect 
for  such  laws  as  were  calculated  to  promote  their  greatest 
happiness,  would  adopt  in  preference  to  any  other ;  being  the 


SUPERIOR  VALUE  OP  REVEALED  RELIGION,        157 

best  adapted  to  gain  his  end.  It  was  of  the  greatest  importance 
to  mankind  to  be  made  acquainted  with  those  moral  princi- 
ples and  rules  of  conduct  on  which  their  happiness  depended, 
and  which  they  would  never  have  discovered  of  themselves  j 
to  have  their  attention  drawn  to  them  in  the  most  forcible 
manner,  and  to  have  the  most  satisfactory  evidence  of  their 
truth  ;  and  this  is  what  we  find  in  revelation,  and  in  revela- 
tion only.  It  is  therefore,  as  the  apostle  justly  calls  it,  "  the 
wisdom  and  the  power  of  God,"  though  objected  to  and  ridi- 
culed by  light  and  superficial  men. 


DIVINE  MISSION  OF  MOSES. 


Such  a  firm  persuasion  in  the  whole  Jewish  nation,  cir- 
cumstanced as  they  are  well  known  to  have  been,  on  the 
supposition  that  the  events  above  recited  never  took  place, 
and  that  the  written  history  of  them  is  not  authentic,  would 
be  a  miracle  of  a  much  more  extraordinary  nature  than  any 
of  those  that  are  objected  to,  and  a  miracle  without  any 
reasonable  object  ;  for  what  rational  end  could  have  been 
answered  by  such  a  supernatural  infatuation  (for  it  could 
not  have  been  any  thing  less)  as  should  induce  a  whole  nation 
firmly  to  believe  all  the  particulars  that  I  have  recited,  viz. 
the  account  of  all  the  plagues  of  Egypt,  their  passing  through 
the  Red  Sea  and  the  river  Jordan,  the  Divine  Being  speaking 
to  them  from  Mount  Sinai,  and  this  last  instance  of  the  mirac- 
ulous fall  of  the  walls  of  Jericho,  without  any  human  means, 
and  that  the  books  containing  the  history  of  these  particulars 
were  written  and  published  while  the  memory  of  the  things  re- 
corded in  them  was  recent ;  when,  if  the  account  had  been 
fabulous,  it  must  have  been  exceedingly  easy  to  have  exposed  it  ? 

No  nation  in  the  world,  not  even  the  most  credulous  (and 
the  Jews  have  always  been  the  least  so,)  could  have  been  im- 
posed upon  in  so  gross  a  manner.  And  this  was  not  in  one 
particular,  but  in  many  ;  and  those  on  the  largest  scale,  the 
farthest  in  the  world  from  resembling  tricks  of  legerdemain, 
such  as  may  be  exhibited  before  a  few  persons  in  a  private 
room.  But,  for  the  satisfaction  of  all  mankind  in  future  ages, 
it  was  requisite  that  those  miracles,  which  ushered  in  the  first 
dispensation  of  revealed  religion,  should  be  so  circumstanced 


DIVINE  MISSION  OF  MOSES.  159 

with  respect  both  to  number  and  magnitude,  as  to  be  out  of 
the  reach  of  all  reasonable  objection,  though  not  of  mere  cavil  ; 
and  such  is  actually  the  case.  We  may  even  venture  to  say, 
that  had  the  most  skeptical  person  in  the  world  been  asked 
what  he  himself  would  have  wished  to  have  been  done  in  order 
to  satisfy  him  that  the  Author  of  nature  had  really  interposed 
in  the  government  of  the  world,  he  could  not  have  pitched 
upon  more  striking  things,  as  an  evidence  of  it,  than  the  ten 
plagues  of  Egypt,  the  passage  of  the  Red  Sea  and  the  river 
Jordan,  the  articulate  and  audible  voice  from  Mount  Sinai, 
pronouncing  not  a  kw  words  only  (for  in  that  the  hearing 
might  be  deceived),  but  so  many  as  composed  the  ten  com- 
mandments, and  lastly,  the  falling  of  the  walls  of  Jericho ; 
all  of  them  exhibited  in  the  presence  of  a  whole  nation,  and 
some  of  them  even  more  nations  than  one. 

In  order  to  satisfy  distant  ages  that  such  things  as  these 
really  took  place,  what  more  could  have  been  demanded 
than  that  the  history  of  them  should  be  committed  to  writing 
while  the  facts  were  recent ;  that  solemn  customs  should 
be  instituted  at  the  very  time  for  the  purpose  of  commemo- 
ratiug  them  ;  that  a  nation  the  least  disposed  to  the  religion 
which  all  this  apparatus  was  provided  to  establish,  should 
receive  the  history  as  genuine,  and  reluctantly  adopt  the 
religion  thus  enjoined  them  ;  and  that,  notwithstanding  their 
many  deviations  from  it,  owing  to  the  seductive  nature  of  the 
rites  of  other  nations  they  should,  by  faith  in  this  history,  be 
brought  back  to  the  strict  observance  of  it  and  continue  in  it 
to  this  day,  a  period  of  about  four  thousand  years. 

Nothing  but  a  due  attention  to  this  remarkable  state  of 
things  is  necessary  to  ensure  the  firm  belief  of  the  whole,  to 
the  most  skeptical  of  mankind.  And  in  due  time  we  cannot 
doubt  but  that  this  due  attention  will  be  given  to  this  history, 
and  to  that  of  the  propagation  of  Christianity  in  conjunction 
with  it;  and  then  all  mankind  will,  of  course,  become  wor- 
shippers of  the  God  of  Abraham,  of  Isaac,  of  Jacob,  and  of 
Jesus  Christ  j  and  this  faith  cannot  but  be  attended  with  a 


160  DIVINE  MISSION  OF  MOSES. 

great  improvement  in  the  moral  conduct  of  men,  such  as  will 
ensure  to  them  the  truest  enjoyment  of  this  life,  and  immortal 
happiness  in  the  life  to  come. 

*  *  * 

Though  the  history  of  the  deliverance  of  the  Israelites 
from  their  state  of  bondage  in  Egypt,  and  their  settlement  in 
the  land  of  Canaan,  be  an  extraordinary  one,  abounding  with 
miraculous  events,  which  require  a  proportionably  clear  evi- 
dence, we  have  seen  that  the  evidence  of  the  facts  is  as  full 
and  clear  as  the  case,  or  as  any  case,  can  require  ;  and  the 
object  of  the  whole  scheme  to  which  these  fevents  were  an 
introduction,  was  of  proportional  importance.  It  was  nothing 
less  than  to  impress  upon  mankind  the  belief  of  the  existence 
and  providence  of  the  one  true  God,  the  purity  of  his  wor- 
ship, the  knowledge  of  our  moral  duty  in  this  life,  and  of 
our  expectations  in  another.  For  this  great  purpose  it  pleased 
God  to  make  one  nation  the  medium  of  all  his  communica- 
tions with  mankind,  and  to  distinguish  them  by  a  particular 
providence  that  they  might  appear  in  the  most  conspicuous 
light  to  tlie  whole  world,  and  attract  universal  attention. 
This  the  nation  of  the  Jews  has  done  to  a  considerable  de- 
gree in  all  ages.  Originally  they  were  situated  in  the  very 
centre  of  all  the  civilized  nations  of  the  world,  and  as  civ- 
ilization extended,  they  by  one  means  or  another  became 
most  wonderfully  dispersed  through  all  countries  ;  and  at  this 
day  they  are  almost  literally  every  where  the  most  conspicu- 
ous, and  in  the  eye  of  reason  and  religion,  the  most  respecta- 
ble nation  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

It  has  been  by  means  of  prophets  of  this  nation,  and  espe- 
cially Jesus  Christ,  that  the  world  has  been  recovered,  as  far  as 
this  recovery  has  taken  place,  from  the  deplorable  state  of  su- 
perstition and  idolatry  into  which  it  was  universally  sunk.  This 
nation  had  originally  as  much  to  learn  concerning  God,  a 
providence,  and  a  future  state,  as  any  other,  and  they  had  not 
naturally  any  better  sources  of  information  ;  but  having  been 
taught  of  God,  they  or  their  disciples  are  the  instructors  of 


DIVINE  MISSION  OF  MOSES.  161 

all  the  world  ;  and  the  lessons  they  give  us  are  equally  in- 
structive, whether  they  themselves  have  suffered  for  their  dis- 
obedience or  flourished  in  consequence  of  their  obedience. 
And  the  most  important  and  convincing  of  all  the  lessons 
they  are  destined  to  give  the  world,  what  we  have  reason  to 
believe  will  put  an  end  to  all  infidelity,  will  be  the  result  of 
their  promised  restoration  to  their  present  desolated  country, 
from  their  present  miserable,  despised,  and  dispersed  condi- 
tion ;  for  who  but  he  who  alone  can  see  into  futurity,  could 
foresee  an  event  so  distant  and  so  complicated  1  And  as  their 
dispersion  and  preservation  correspond,  *  *  *  ^vith  such 
wonderful  exactness  to  ancient  prophecies,  their  is  no  reason- 
able cause  of  doubt  but  that  their  restoration  and  future 
flourishing  state  will  correspond  to  the  many  predictions  con- 
cerning it,  with  equal  exactness.  With  those  who,  for  want 
of  attention  (for  it  cannot  be  owing  to  any  thing  else),  are 
unbelievers  at  present,  the  issue  of  the  whole  must  rest  on 
this  future  event,  which  cannot  fail  to  arrest  and  most  forcibly 
engage  the  attention  of  all  mankind. 


U 


THE  CHARACTER  OF  CHRIST. 


The  very  character  of  Jesus  Christ  is  so  exceedingly  unlike 
any  other  character  whatever  in  the  whole  history  of  man- 
kind; there  is  something  in  it  so  remarkably  great  and  extra- 
ordinary, especially  such  an  amazing  mixture  of  dignity  and 
condescension  ;  that  we  cannot  suppose  that  such  men  as  the 
Evangelists  should  have  conceived  it,  or  have  supported  it  so 
uniformly  as  they  have  done  on  a  great  variety  of  occasions. 
The  fact  demonstrates  that  they  must  have  had  an  original 
to  copy  after.  In  this  case  they  must  have  written  from  their 
memories,  and  not  from  imagination. 

I  would  not  scruple  to  appeal  to  any  person,  whose  moral 
sentiments  have  not  been  perverted,  whether  he  can  possibly 
reconcile  the  character  of  Christ,  the  doctrines  which  he 
taught,  and  his  general  conduct,  with  that  of  an  enthusiast 
or  an  impostor,  and  consequently  whether  his  history  does 
not  on  this  account  bear  internal  marks  of  truth.  He  taught 
and  laboriously  inculcated  the  precepts  of  the  purest  mo- 
rality. He  did  not  puzzle  his  hearers  with  subtle  distinc- 
tions in  morals,  but  insisted  chiefly  upon  great  and  general 
principles,  as  the  love  of  God,  the  love  of  mankind,  and 
universal  purity  of  heart,  which  are  calculated  to  form  a 
complete  character,  adapted  to  every  station  and  condition 
in  life ;  and  he  more  especially  enforced  those  virtues  which 
are  the  least  ostentatious,  but  the  most  essential  to  true  great- 
ness and  excellence  of  character  ;  viz.  the  forgiveness  of  inju- 
ries, humility,  contentment,  and  resignation  to  the  will  of 
God. 


THE  CHARACTER  OP  CHRIST.  163 

He  never  consulted  his  own  ease  or  pleasure,  but  constantly 
labored  and  felt  for  others,  going  about  doing  good  to  the 
souls  and  bodies  of  men.  He  spared  neither  the  faults  of  his 
friends,  nor  the  vices  of  his  enemies,  though  the  former  were 
ever  so  dear  to  him,  and  the  latter  ever  so  powerful  and 
inveterate.  He  discovered  the  most  astonishing  wisdom  and 
presence  of  mind,  whenever  ensnaring  questions  were  put  to 
him.  He  sought  no  worldly  emoluments  or  honors,  but  per- 
sisted in  a  course  of  life  which  rendered  him  in  the  highest 
degree  obnoxious  to  those  who  were  in  power  ;  and  when  he 
deemed  the  great  purpose  of  his  useful  life  to  be  accomplished, 
he  no  longer  secreted  himself  from  the  malice  of  his  per- 
secutors, but  in  a  firm  belief,  and  with  a  peremptory  decla- 
ration, that  he  should  rise  to  the  most  distinguished  greatness, 
and  that  he  should  raise  all  his  disciples  and  friends  to  similar 
honors  in  a  future  life,  he  submitted,  with  inimitable  calm- 
ness and  composure,  to  a  most  cruel  and  ignominious  death. 

If  there  be  any  truth  in  history,  all  this,  and  much  more 
than  this  was  unquestionably  fact.  Now,  what  is  there  in 
human  nature,  or  in  the  history  of  mankind,  that  can  lead 
us  to  imagine  that  the  man  who  could  act  this  part  should 
solemnly  assert  that  he  was  commissioned  by  God  to  do  it 
without  really  having  such  a  commission  ?  A  good  man  will 
immediately  say,  if  Divine  interpositions  be  possible  in  them- 
selves, and  if  God  has  ever  spoken  by  man,  Jesus  Christ 
must  certainly  have  been  the  man ;  and  an  intelligent  per- 
son perceive  that  the  time  in  which  he  lived  was  the  most 
proper  time  for  his  appearance.  The  man  whose  life  and 
conversation  is  agreeable  to  the  gospel,  and  who  feels  that  he 
enjoys  the  advantages  of  his  being  and  condition,  to  the  great- 
est perfection,  in  consequence  of  it,  must  feel  what  will  be  to 
him  the  most  irresistible  evidence,  that  the  gospel  proceeds 
from  the  Giver  of  every  good  and  perfect  gift.  He  has  the 
witness  in  himself,  and  has  peace  and  joy  in  believing. 
*  *  * 

Let  all  these  circumstances  be  duly  considered,  the  ob- 


164  THE  CHARACTER  OF  CHRIST. 

scure  birth  and  mean  occupation  of  Jesus,  in  a  distant  and 
despised  country ;  his  high  pretensions  to  be  the  Jewish 
Messiah,  without  any  assumption  of  kingly  power,  univer- 
sally deemed  to  be  most  essential  to  that  character ;  his 
claim  to  a  kingdom,  though  not  of  this  world,  and  to  the 
power  of  raising  the  dead  and  judging  the  world,  when  he 
had  nothing  but  the  certain  prospect  of  a  violent  death  before 
him ;  his  undertaking  to  overthrow  all  the  religions  of  the 
heathen  world,  firmly  attached  as  the  several  nations  were  to 
them,  —  religions  which  had  kept  their  ground,  from  time  im- 
memorial, notwithstanding  a  long  period  now  boasted  of  as  the 
most  enlightened  of  any  till  the  present ;  when  there  had  not 
been  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  an  example  of  any 
nations  voluntarily  changing  their  religion  ;  his  holding  out  to 
his  disciples  nothing  but  persecution  in  this  world  and  happi- 
ness in  another;  his  having  no  secrets;  his  discovering  no 
anxiety  about  the  evidences  of  his  divine  mission,  joined  with 
his  calm  good  sense,  his  exalted  piety,  his  general  benevo- 
lence, and  the  strong  affection  he  always  showed  to  his 
friends  and  followers ;  let  all  these  circumstances,  I  say,  be 
considered,  and,  without  attending  to  his  miracles  and  his 
success,  it  must  surely  be  thought  impossible  that  this  man 
could  have  been  an  impostor,  and  meant  to  deceive  the 
world.  This  internal  evidence  added  to  external,  on  which 
I  have  already  enlarged,  viz.  from  miracles  and  prophecy ,^ 
must  be  abundantly  sufficient  to  satisfy  any  reasonable  and 
candid  inquirer,  with  respect  to  the  truth  of  Christianity,  and 
of  revealed  religion  in  general. 

*  *  * 

Thus  have  I  given  a  sketch  of  the  history  of  Jesus,  from 
which  we  may  form  a  just  idea  of  his  real  character  ;  and  let 
those  who  are  best  acquainted  with  human  nature  say, 
whether  it  does  not  bear  every  mark  of  true  greatness,  even  ex- 
ceeding any  that  ever  existed  before  or  since.  Jesus  appears 
to  have  been  free  from  every  human  weakness,  and  to  have 
been  actuated  by  every  sentnnent  that  is  justly  entitled  to  tlie 


THE  CHARACTER  OF  CHRIST.  165 

denomination  of  great;  as  being  remote  from  common  attain- 
ments, and  arising  from  the  greatest  comprehension  of  mind 
which  is  oidy  acquired  by  just  and  enlarged  views  of  things, 
respecting  alike  God  and  man,  this  life  and  another. 

To  persons  of  sufficient  knowledge  and  candid  reflection, 
this  consideration  affords  satisfactory  proof  of  the  truth  of 
Christianity.  The  Evangelists  were  not  men  who  were  capa- 
ble of  devising  such  a  character  as  this,  or  of  inventing  a 
series  of  actions  and  discourses  indicating  such  a  character. 
It  is  a  great  unique,  of  which  they  could  not  have  formed  any 
conception.*  And  if  such,  indeed,  was  the  character  of  Jesus, 
the  question  to  the  philosophical  inquirer  is.  How  could  it 
have  been  formed  ?  For  so  remarkable  an  effect  must  have 
had  an  adequate  cause.  The  answer  is  obvious.  It  could 
only  have  arisen  from  the  firmest  persuasion,  in  the  mind  of 
Jesus,  of  a  divine  mission,  and  consequently,  of  a  great  future 
reward,  which  would  abundantly  overbalance  all  the  sufferings 
of  this  life. 

*  "Wliat  sweetness,  what  purity  in  his  manners  !  What  an  affecting 
gracefulness  in  his  delivery  !  What  sublimity  in  his  maxims  !  What 
profound  wisdom  in  his  discourses!  What  presence  of  mind,  what 
subtilty,  what  truth  in  his  replies  !  How  great  the  command  over  his 
passions  !  Where  is  the  man,  where  the  philosopher,  who  could  so 
live,  and  so  die,  without  weakness,  and  without  ostentation  ?  Where 
could  Jesus  learn,  among  his  competitors,  that  pure  and  sublime  mo- 
rality, of  which  he  only  hath  given  us  both  precept  and  example  ? 
Shall  we  suppose  the  Evangelic  History  a  mere  fiction?  Such  a  sup- 
position, in  fact,  only  shifts  the  difficulty  without  obviating  it.  It  is 
more  inconceivable  that  a  number  of  persons  should  agree  to  write 
such  a  history,  than  that  one  only  should  furnish  the  subject  of  it. 
The  Jewish  authors  were  incapable  of  the  diction,  and  strangers  to 
the  morality  contained  in  the  Gospel,  the  marks  of  whose  truth  are 
60  striking  and  inimitable,  that  the  inventor  would  be  a  more  astonish- 
ing character  than  the  hero." — Rousseau's  Letter  to  the  Archbishop 
of  Paris,  17C3,  p.  63. 


THE  SPREAD  OF  CHRISTIANITY  A  PROOF  OF 
ITS  TRUTH. 


I  WOULD  farther  observe,  that  this  state  of  things  affords  a 
strong  presumptive  proof  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  The 
heathen  religion  liad  every  advantage  of  antiquity,  learning, 
and  power  ;  and  yet  could  not  prevail  against  the  new  relig- 
ion, with  the  heavy  disadvantage  of  having  a  crucified  Jew 
for  its  founder.  Christianity  had  no  advantage  from  power, 
till  by  its  own  evidence  only,  and  in  opposition  to  every  kind 
of  power,  it  had  prevailed  so  much  as  to  make  it  the  interest 
of  the  ruling  powers  to  espouse  it. 

With  respect  to  the  conduct  of  Divine  Providence,  I  would 
observe,  that  the  sufferings  of  Christians,  as  well  as  those  of 
Christ  himself,  though  so  great  and  of  such  long  continu- 
ance, were  necessary  to  the  firm  establishment  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  and  that  this  was  necessary  to  the  happiness  of  man- 
kind in  future  ages.  For,  to  the  confirmation  of  their  faith 
it  was  absolutely  necessary,  that  no  person,  to  the  end  of 
time,  should  ever  be  able  to  say,  that  Christianity  had  estab- 
lished itself  in  the  world  by  means  of  power,  of  policy,  or  of 
learning  ;  and  that  its  evidences  had  not  been  rigorously  ex- 
amined at  a  time  when  every  means  of  examination  were 
existing,  and  also  when  both  its  friends  aud  enemies  were 
sufficiently  interested  in  the  examination. 

Now  the  persecution  of  Christians,  from  the  very  origin  of 
their  religion  at  Jerusalem,  in  the  very  midst  of  its  most 
inveterate  enemies,  and  for  more  than  two  centuries  after 
this,  through  the  whole   extent  of  the  Roman  empire  (the 


THE  SPREAD  OP  CHRISTIANITY,  &C.  167 

power  of  which  over  all  its  subjects  was  by  its  constitution 
perhaps  greater  than  any  that  had  ever  existed  in  the  world 
before,  or  that  has  existed,  even  since) ;  a  period  also  that 
was  far  from  being  unfavorable  to  learning  and  inquiry,  not 
preventing,  but  evidently  promoting  the  spread  of  Christianity ; 
is  the  most  incontestable  proof,  that  neither  arguments,  nor 
force,  though  both  were  exerted  to  the  utmost,  could  prevail 
against  it.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Christians,  who  had  no 
alternative  but  abandoning  their  religion  or  their  lives,  would 
not  certainly  choose  the  latter  without  what  appeared  to  them 
to  be  sufficient  reason,  and  such  as  they  had  not  taken  up 
lightly,  and  without  the  most  careful  examination.  Because 
we  do  not  see  that,  in  any  other  cases,  men  deliberately  throw 
away  their  lives;  and  especially  that  they  submit  to  long-con- 
tinued torture,  without  cause. 

This  was  the  state  of  things  between  the  friends  and  the 
enemies  of  Christianity,  while  the  facts  were  recent,  capable 
of  the  most  easy  investigation,  and  the  witnesses  were  numer- 
ous. And  that  they  who  did  inquire  with  a  proper  temper  of 
mind  were  really  satisfied  with  respect  to  these  facts,  is  evident 
from  their  continuing  to  profess  themselves  Christians  notwith- 
standing all  the  discouragements  they  lay  under,  and  by  their 
daily  making  converts  of  others.  It  is  of  the  greatest  importance 
to  observe,  that  the  things  to  be  examined  were  ^Ihin  facts, 
with  respect  to  which  one  man's  understanding  is  just  as  good 
as  that  of  any  other.  Whatever  learning  or  genius  could  do 
was  at  first  entirely  against  Christianity,  because  its  origin 
was  wholly  with  the  illiterate  ;  but  at  length  the  learned  them- 
selves, of  every  class,  attached  as  they  were  to  their  respective 
favorite  systems,  were  induced  to  abandon  them  in  favor 
of  a  religion  which,  both  on  account  of  its  tenets  and  of  its 
founder  and  preachers,  they  had  at  first  held  in  the  greatest 
contempt. 

A  man  who  can  say  that,  in  these  circumstances,  Chris- 
tianity made  its  way  in  the  world,  as  it  is  known  to  have 
done  before   the   reign   of  Constantine,   without   its   being 


168  THE  SPREAD  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

founded  on  truth,  must  say  that  human  nature  was  not  the  same 
thing  then  that  it  is  now.  And  the  man  who  can  seriously 
assert  this,  will  not  be  much  attended  to  by  other  men.  He 
must,  in  fact,  believe  infinitely  more  miracles,  and  of  a  more 
stupendous  nature,  than  the  Christian  admits,  and  these  both 
without  evidence  and  without  an  object.  He  must  be  a  be- 
liever in  the  absolute  and  proper  infatuation  of  the  greater 
part  of  the  subjects  of  the  Roman  empire  for  the  three  first 
centuries :  nothing  less  than  this  will  account  for  unquestion- 
able facts,  upon  his  hypothesis. 

I  must  observe  again,  and  enlarge  a  little  upon  the  obser- 
vation, that  the  things  to  be  examined  into  by  the  friends  or 
the  enemies  of  Christianity,  were  not  truths  of  an  abstract  or 
metaphysical  nature,  with  respect  to  which  any  man  or  any 
number  of  men  may  form  wrong  judgments,  and  become 
tenaciously  attached  to  them  ;  but  simply  the  truth  of  facts, 
which  it  requires  nothing  more  than  common  sense  to  judge 
of;  and  likewise  such  an  application  of  common  sense,  or  un- 
derstanding, as  all  men  are  continually  exercising,  and  there- 
fore with  respect  to  which  they  are  the  least  liable  to  make 
a  mistake,  and  form  a  wrong  judgment. 

What  they  had  to  inquire  into  was  simply  this ;  whether 
Christ,  with  whom  many  of  them  were  personally  acquainted, 
wrought  real  miracles,  whether  he  rose  from  the  dead,  and 
whether  the  apostles  and  others  continued  to  work  miracles 
in  support  of  his  divine  mission  afterwards.  With  the  truth 
or  untruth  of  these  facts,  the  apostles  themselves  and  all  their 
contemporaries  must  either  have  been  acquainted,  or  might 
easily  have  satisfied  themselves.  They  could  not  therefore 
have  been  imposed  upon  themselves  with  respect  to  the  facts ; 
nor  can  it  be  imagined  that  the  thousands  of  that  generation 
who  suffered,  and  many  of  whom  died,  in  the  cause  of  Chris- 
tianity, could  have  any  motive  to  impose  upon  others.  We 
do  not  indeed  think  it  necessary  to  trouble  ourselves  to  inves- 
tigate the  causes  of  the  sentiments  and  conduct  of  single  per- 
sons, or  of  a  few  persons  ;    because  their  faculties  may  be  de- 


A  PROOF  OF  ITS  TRUTH.  169 

ranged,  or  they  may  have  been  subjected  to  such  particular 
influences  as  cannot  possibly  be  known,  except  perhaps  to 
those  who  have  attended  them  from  their  infancy,  and  have 
been  acquainted  with  their  whole  history.  But  this  can  never 
be  said  of  so  many  persons,  of  all  descriptions,  as  are  well 
known  to  have  embraced  Christianity  in  the  very  age  of  the 
apostles,  except  by  persons  whose  own  minds  are  deranged, 
and  therefore  whose  objections  it  is  to  no  purpose  to  consider, 
or  reply  to. 

But  supposing  the  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  who 
embraced  Christianity  in  the  age  of  the  apostles,  to  have  been 
properly  infatuated  so  as  to  believe  that  they  actually  saw 
and  heard  things  that  had  no  existence  ;  the  next  generation 
had  sufficient  leisure  and  sufficient  opportunity  to  inquire 
into  the  facts,  and  this  most  extraordinary  one,  of  the  infatua- 
tion of  their  predecessors,  among  the  rest ;  and  they  were 
sufficiently  interested  so  to  do,  when,  if  they  embraced  Chris- 
tianity, they  had  nothing  before  them  but  the  fate  of  preced- 
ing Christians.  Yet  we  see  that  the  inquiries  that  were  made 
in  the  second  generation,  and  all  the  succeeding  ones,  after 
the  apostles,  continually  added  to  the  number  of  Christians  ; 
who  kept  uniformly  increasing,  among  the  learned  and  un- 
learned, the  high  and  the  low,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  till, 
notwithstanding  all  their  hardships,  they,  or  their  friends, 
became  the  more  powerful  part  of  the  Roman  empire. 

To  suppose  that  Christianity  could  have  propagated  itself 
in  this  manner,  without  being  founded  in  truth,  is  to  suppose, 
as  I  observed  before  (and  because  it  cannot  be  too  much 
attended  to,  I  mention  it  again)  more  miracles,  and  those  of  a 
more  extraordinary  nature,  than  are  believed  by  Christians; 
miracles  of  which  no  evidence  can  be  given,  and  for  which 
no  reason  can  be  assigned.  For  it  must  be  supposed  that  all 
these  innumerable  converts  to  Christianity  in  the  early  ages 
imagined  that  they  had  heard  and  seen  what  they  never  had 
heard  or  seen  ;  or  that  they  had  inquired  into  the  truth  of 
recent  facts,  when  they  had  made  no  inquiry  at  all,  and  that 


170  THE  SPREAD  OF  CHRISTIANITY,  &LC. 

they  sacrificed  their  ease,  their  liberty,  their  property,  and 
many  of  them  their  lives,  for  a  mere  fancy,  an  illusion  of  the 
brain.  Their  minds  must  therefore  have  been  under  a 
proper  and  miraculous  infatuation,  and  for  no  purpose  but 
to  subject  them  to  the  most  grievous  sufferings,  and  to  delude 
mankind  in  all  future  ages. 

Now,  between  this  strange  and  incredible  supposition,  and 
the  truth  of  the  gospel  history,  there  is  no  medium.  Ad- 
mitting the  facts  which  are  related  by  the  Evangelists,  and 
the  author  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  every  thing  that  has 
followed  to  the  present  times  is  easy  and  natural.  The  con- 
version of  the  first  Christians,  obstinate  and  reluctant  as  many 
of  them  were,  the  conversion  of  others  by  them,  and  all  the 
subsequent  events,  have  an  adequate  cause,  so  that  without 
supposing  any  farther  miracles,  all  things  have  come  by  a 
regular  progress,  each  step  of  which  is  perfectly  intelligible, 
to  the  state  in  which  we  see  them  to  be  at  present.  But  on 
no  other  hypothesis  can  present  appearances,  what  we  our- 
selves now  see,  be  accounted  for.  On  the  other  supposition 
(which,  if  they  reflect  at  all,  must  be  that  of  all  unbelievers) 
we  see  the  most  wonderful  change  in  the  history  of  the  world, 
a  revolution  in  the  minds  of  men,  of  all  nations  and  all  de- 
scriptions, produced  by  supernatural  delusion  ;  that  is,  a  great 
effect  without  any  cause,  that  a  man  in  his  sober  senses  would 
think  of  alleging  for  it. 


RELIGIOUS  KNOWLEDGE,  — ADDRESSED  TO  THE  YOUTH 
OF  HIS  CONGREGATION  IN  LEEDS. 


It  is  the  earnest  wish  of  my  heart,  that  your  minds  may 
be  well  established  in  the  sound  principles  of  religious  knowl- 
edge ;  because  I  am  fully  persuaded,  that  nothing  else  can 
be  a  sufficient  foundation  of  a  virtuous  and  truly  respectable 
conduct  in  life,  or  of  good  hope  in  death.  A  mind  destitute 
of  knowledge  (and,  comparatively  speaking,  no  kind  of 
knowledge  besides  that  of  religion  deserves  the  name),  is 
like  a  field  on  which  no  culture  has  been  bestowed,  which, 
the  richer  it  is,  the  ranker  weeds  it  will  produce.  If  nothing 
good  be  sown  in  it,  it  will  be  occupied  by  plants  that  are  use- 
less or  noxious. 

Thus,  the  mind  of  man  can  never  be  wholly  barren. 
Through  our  whole  lives  we  are  subject  to  successive  im- 
pressions ;  for  either  new  ideas  are  continually  flowing  in, 
or  traces  of  the  old  ones  are  marked  deeper.  If,  therefore, 
you  be  not  acquiring  good  principles,  be  assured  that  you 
are  acquiring  bad  ones;  if  you  be  not  forming  virtuous  habits, 
you  are,  how  insensibly  soever  to  yourselves,  forming  vicious 
ones ;  and,  instead  of  becoming  those  amiable  objects  in 
yourselves,  and  those  valuable  members  of  society,  which 
nature  and  the  God  of  nature  intended  that  you  should  be, 
you  will  be  at  best  useless  cumberers  of  the  ground,  a  dead 
weight  upon  the  community,  receiving  support  and  advantage, 
but  contributing  nothing  in  return  ;  or  you  will  be  the  pests 
of  society,  growing  continually  more  corrupt  yourselves,  and 
contributing  to  the  corruption  of  others. 


172 


RELIGIOUS  KNOWLEDGE. 


Finding  yourselves,  therefore,  in  such  a  world  as  this,  in 
which  nothing  is  at  a  stand,  it  behoves  you  seriously  to  re- 
flect upon  your  situation  and  prospects.  Form  then,  the  gen- 
erous resolution  (and  every  thing  depends  upon  your  resolu- 
tion) of  being  at  present  what  you  will  certainly  wish  you 
had  been  some  years  hence ;  what  your  best  friends  now  wish 
you  to  be  ;  and  what  your  Maker  has  intended,  fitted,  and 
enabled  you  to  be. 

Above  all  things,  be  careful  to  improve  and  make  use  of 
the  reason  which  God  has  given  you,  to  be  the  guide  of  your 
lives,  to  check  the  e.vtravagance  of  your  passions,  and  to 
assist  you  in  acquiring  that  knowledge,  without  which  your 
rational  powers  will  be  of  no  advantage  to  you.  If  you  would 
distinguish  yourselves  as  men,  and  attain  the  true  dignity 
and  proper  happiness  of  your  natures,  it  must  be  by  the  exer- 
cise of  those  faculties  which  are  peculiar  to  you  as  men.  If 
you  have  no  higher  objects  than  the  gratification  of  your  ani- 
mal appetites  and  passions,  you  rank  yourselves  with  the  brute 
beasts ;  but  as  you  will  still  retain  that  reflection  which  they 
have  not,  you  will  never  have  that  unallayed  enjoyment  of  a 
sensual  life  which  they  have.  In  fact,  you  are  incapable  of 
the  happiness  of  brute  animals.  Aspire,  therefore,  to  those 
superior  pursuits  and  gratifications  for  which  you  were 
formed,  and  which  are  the  prerogative  and  glory  of  your 
natures. 

Let  me  urge  you,  my  younger  hearers,  to  a  more  than  ordi- 
nary attention  to  regularity  and  propriety  of  behaviour,  be- 
coming men  and  Christians,  that  your  conduct  may  be  no 
disgrace  to  the  rational  and  liberal  sentiments  which  I  trust 
you  have  imbibed.  Let  it  be  seen,  that  when  God  is  consid- 
ered as  the  proper  object  of  reverence,  love,  and  confidence, 
as  the  benevolent  Father  of  all  his  offspring  of  mankind,  and 
their  righteous  and  impartial  moral  Governor,  the  principle  of 
obedience  is  the  most  ingenuous  and  effectual.  Cherish  the 
most  unfeigned  gratitude  to  the  Father  of  lights,  that  your 
minds  are  no  longer  bewildered  with  the  gloom  and  darkness, 


RELIGIOUS    KNOWLEDGE.  173 

in  which  our  excellent  religion  was,  for  so  many  ages,  involv- 
ed ;  but  let  this  consideration  be  a  motive  with  you  to  walk 
as  becomes  so  glorious  a  light.  If  your  conduct  be  such  as, 
instead  of  recommending  your  own  generous  principles,  fur- 
nishes an  excuse  to  others  for  acquiescing  in  their  prejudices 
and  errors,  all  the  dishonor  which  is  thereby  thrown  upon 
God,  and  the  injury  which  will  be  done  to  the  pure  religion 
of  Jesus  Christ,  by  keeping  it  longer  in  a  corrupted  state  at 
home  and  preventing  its  propagation  abroad,  will  be  your 
peculiar  guilt,  and  greatly  aggravate  your  condemnation. 

Value  the  Scriptures,  as  a  treasury  of  Divine  knowledge, 
consisting  of  books  which  are  eminently  calculated  to  inspire 
you  with  just  sentiments,  and  prompt  you  to  right  conduct; 
and  consider  them  also  as  the  only  proper  authority  in  mat- 
ters of  faith. 

In  a  thing  so  interesting  to  you  as  the  business  of  religion, 
affecting  the  regulation  of  your  conduct  here,  so  as  to  prepare 
you  for  immortal  happiness  hereafter,  respect  no  human  au- 
thority whatever.  Submit  to  those  who  are  invested  with  the 
supreme  power  in  your  country,  as  your  lawful  civil  magis- 
trates;  but  if  they  would  prescribe  to  you  in  matters  of  faith, 
say,  that  you  have  but  one  Father,  even  God,  and  one  Mas- 
ter, even  Christ,  and  stand  fast  in  the  liberty  with  which  he 
has  made  you  free.  Respect  a  parliamentary  king,  and 
cheerfully  pay  all  parliamentary  taxes ;  but  have  nothing  to 
do  with  a  parliamentary  religion,  or  a  parliamentary  God. 

Religious  rights  and  religious  liberty  are  things  of  inesti- 
mable value.  For  these  have  many  of  our  ancestors  suffered 
and  died  ;  and  shall  we,  in  the  sunshine  of  prosperity,  desert 
that  glorious  cause,  from  which  no  storms  of  adversity  or  per- 
secution could  make  them  swerve  ?  Let  us  consider  it  as  a 
duty  of  the  first  rank  with  respect  to  moral  obligation,  to 
transmit  to  our  posterity,  and  provide,  as  far  as  we  can,  for 
transmitting,  unimpaired,  to  the  latest  generations,  that  gen- 
erous zeal  for  religion  and  liberty,  which  makes  the  memory 
of  our  forefathers  so  truly  illustrious. 


174  RELIGIOUS  KNOWLEDGE. 

So  long  as  it  shall  please  that  God,  in  whose  hand  our 
breath  is,  and  whose  are  all  our  ways,  to  continue  me  in 
that  relation,  in  which  I  think  myself  happy  in  standing  to 
you  at  present,  I  trust  that  I  shall  not  fail  to  endeavour  to 
impress  your  minds  with  a  just  sense  of  what  you  owe  to 
God,  to  your  country,  and  to  mankind.  Let  it  be  our  mutual 
care  to  derive  the  most  durable  advantage  from  our  present 
temporary  connexion,  by  growing  continually  more  estab- 
lished, strengthened,  and  settled  in  the  habit  and  practice  of 
all  the  virtues  which  become  us  as  men  and  as  Christians ; 
that  we  may  secure  a  happy  meeting  and  mutual  congratula- 
tion in  the  future  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour. 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  REV.  RICHARD  PRICE,  D.  D. 


We  are  now,  my  Christian  brethren,  assembled  on  the 
mournful  occasion  of  the  decease  of  a  truly  excellent  man ; 
one  who  stood  in  the  endearing  relation  of  pastor  to  this  con- 
gregation,* but  in  a  much  more  important  relation  to  his 
country,  and  even  to  the  world.  If,  after  this,  I  may  add,  as 
an  excuse  for  those  who  have  made  choice  of  me  to  addrses 
you  on  the  occasion,  he  was  one  with  whom  I  had  been  con- 
nected by  an  acquaintance  of  more  than  thirty  years,  and  an 
intimate  friendship  of  more  than  twenty.  In  consequence  of 
this,  I  have  never  failed  to  occupy  his  place  of  preacher  to 
you,  on  my  annual  visits  to  the  metropolis ;  and  if  a  circum- 
stance, which  adds  something  to  the  impression  on  my  own 
mind,  may  be  mentioned  on  the  occasion,  this  is  the  very  day 
on  which,  if  our  friend  had  been  alive  and  well,  I  should  of 
course  have  preached  for  him.  Little  did  I  expect,  when  I 
set  out  on  my  journey,  that  this  would  be  his  Funeral  Ser- 
mon ;  for  at  that  time  there  were  hopes  of  his  recovery,  and 
about  a  month  before,  there  was  no  more  appearance  of  his 
approaching  dissolution,  than  there  is  of  that  of  any  of  ours  at 
present.  For  though  he  was  not  of  a  robust  constitution,  and 
was  drawing  toward  the  usual  term  of  human  life,  he  had  of 
late  years  recovered  a  better  state  of  health  and  spirits  than 
had  generally  fallen  to  his  share  ;  so  that,  judging  by  appear- 
ances, he  might  have  lived  happily  to  himself,  and  usefully  to 
the  world,  many  years  longer.  May  the  reflection  lead  us  all 
to  the  true  wisdom  of  considering  our  latter  end,  that  we  may 
hold  ourselves  in  constant  readiness  for  our  summons  hence  ; 

*    At  Hackney,  near  London. 


176  CHARACTER  OF  DR.  PRICE. 

since,  at  such  an  hour  as  we  think  not,  that  summons  may 
come. 

*  *  * 

The  virtues  of  Dr.  Price,  I  may  say,  without  being  charged 
with  extravagant  panegyric  or  flattery,  which  should  be  far 
from  this  sacred  place,  as  it  was  remote  from  his  pure  and 
simple  mind,  will  live  in  the  memory  not  only  of  the  present, 
but  of  future  generations.  For  few  persons  in  the  private 
walks  of  life,  in  no  public  office  or  employment,  and  wholly 
remote  from  courts,  were  ever  more  generally  known  or 
respected.  His  labors  made  him  in  pretty  early  life  the  ben- 
efactor of  mankind.  Not  only  was  his  object  in  his  more 
abstruse  mathematical  studies,  the  benefit  of  his  countrymen, 
by  reducing  to  greater  certainty,  and  setting  in  a  clearer  light 
than  had  ever  been  done  before,  the  doctrine  of  Annuities,  and 
many  interesting  subjects,  for  which  thousands  in  this  coun- 
try have  reason  to  thank  him ;  but  so  ardent  was  his  zeal  for 
the  natural  rights  of  men,  and  so  forcibly  and  effectually  did 
he  plead  the  cause  of  liberty,  civil  and  religious,  that  no 
inconsiderable  proportion  of  the  human  race  acknowledged 
his  writings  to  have  been  of  eminent  use  to  their  attainment 
of  those  great  blessings;  and  the  most  august  assembly  in  the 
world,  by  which  I  wish  to  be  understood  the  National  Assem- 
bly of  France,  have  justly  styled  him  the  Apostle  of  Liberty. 
Not  that  he  added  much  to  the  clearness  of  its  principles  ; 
but  strongly  feeling  their  force,  he  inspired  all  his  readers 
with  the  same  ardent  love  of  it  and  zeal  for  it,  so  as  to  make 
liberty  appear  more  desirable,  and  tyranny  more  detestable ; 
and  in  this  respect,  though  dead,  he  yet  speaketh. 

In  the  writings  of  Dr.  Price,  men  and  citizens  may  ever 
see  their  rights  and  magistrates  their  duty ;  and  so  plainly 
and  forcibly  are  these  lessons  given,  that  our  children  may 
understand  and  feel  them.  That  the  great  end  of  civil  soci- 
ety and  the  object  of  all  civil  government  is  the  public  good ; 
that  every  form  of  government  is  excellent  in  proportion  as  it 
is  adapted  to  gain  this  end  ;    that  all  persons  employed  and 


CHARACTER  OF  DR.  PRICE.  177 

paid  by  the  public,  are  the  servants  of  the  public,  that  they 
are  accountable  to  the  public,  and  of  course  punishable  for 
their  neglect  of  duty,  are  now  considered  as  axioms,  as  indis- 
putable as  any  in  geometry ;  and  the  writings  of  Dr.  Price 
have  contributed  more  than  those  of  any  other  person,  I  may 
almost  say,  living  or  dead,  to  make  them  generally  under- 
stood, and  what  is  more,  to  their  importance  being  truly  felt. 
It  may  be  considered  as  a  universal  truth,  that  no  man  can 
rise  to  great  eminence  without  having  enemies  in  proportion 
to  it ;  and  kw  men  have  had  more  of  this  honorable  appen- 
dage to  real  merit  than  Dr.  Price.  He  long  stood  the  object 
of  reproach  and  calumny  to  the  interested  tools  of  power,  to 
the  prejudiced  and  to  the  timid.  And  on  this  account  some 
may  think  it  necessary  to  apologize  for  his  conduct,  in  the 
writings  to  which  I  now  refer,  especially  as  his  profession  was 
that  of  a  preacher  of  the  gospel  of  peace.  But  I  cannot  apol- 
ogize for  public  virtue  and  public  spirit,  in  any  man.  It  is 
universally  praiseworthy,  and  a  just  subject  of  encomium. 

Whatever  else  we  be,  we  are  all  members  of  society,  and 
citizens  of  the  world  ;  and  as  such,  we  are  bound  to  consult 
the  public  welfare,  as  far  as  we  have  an  opportunity  to  pro- 
mote it;  which  was  eminently  the  case  of  Dr.  Price.  His 
character  and  his  writings  gave  him  access  to  men  in,  power, 
and  who  have  influence  in  public  affairs,  not  only  in  England, 
but  also  in  America,  and  in  France,  not  to  mention  other 
countries  ;  and  his  wise  counsels  were  not  always  without 
effect.  But  persons  in  less  conspicuous  situations  are  justi- 
fiable, and  more  than  justifiable,  for  their  endeavours  to  serve 
the  public,  be  they  more  or  less  attended  to  ;  and  in  every 
free,  that  is,  in  every  equitable  and  just  government,  the  voice 
of  every  man  interested  in  it  will  be  heard  and  attended  to  in 
proportion  to  his  interest. 

These  duties  respecting  the   public  need  not  to   interfere 

with  those  of  a  more  private   nature.      Did   our   deceased 

friend,  notwithstanding  his  attention  to  politics,  neglect  any 

part  of  his  duty  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  or  a  member  of 

12 


178  CHARACTER  OF  DR.  PRICE. 

society  in  any  other  respect  1  You  know  that  he  was  ever 
exemplary  in  them  all.  Was  the  strain  of  his  pulpit  discourses 
ever  factious?  Did  they  tend  to  make  you  discontented  with 
government,  or  inflame  your  passions  against  those  who  had 
the  administration  of  it  ?  You  know  the  contrary.  The  mild 
but  warm  benevolence  of  his  own  heart  he  diff"used  into  yours. 
It  was  his  business  and  delight,  on  all  occasions,  to  inculcate 
the  great  duties  of  piety  and  resignation  to  God,  and  good-will 
to  all  men,  together  with  that  happy  equanimity  which  pre- 
pares the  mind  for  all  events,  prosperous  or  adverse,  public  or 
private.  You  could  not,  I  am  confident,  leave  this  place, 
after  attending  his  services  in  it,  without  feeling  yourselves 
more  meek  and  placid,  more  disposed  to  forbearance  and  for- 
giveness, than  to  revenge. 

But  from  one  species  of  reproach  and  abuse,  to  which  most 
declaimers  against  government  are  subject,  Dr.  Price  was 
universally  exempted.  His  bitterest  enemies,  in  their  great- 
est violence,  never  taxed  him  with  it.  I  mean  his  having  in- 
terested views.  His  patriotism,  though  warm,  was  ever  of  the 
purest  kind,  looking  to  nothing  for  himself;  and  when  he  had 
the  freest  access  to  men  in  power,  never  using  it  for  his  own 
emolument,  or  that  of  his  nearest  friends.  In  this  situation 
he  conferred  favors,  but  never  received  any.  So  generally 
was  his  character  in  this  respect  known,  that  when  he  gave  a 
great  part  of  his  time  to  the  service  of  his  country,  in  calcula- 
tions, for  judgment  and  accuracy  in  which  he  was  the  only 
man  particularly  l(X)ked  up  to  by  those  who  composed  the 
legislature  of  his  country,  no  pecuniary  reward  was  ever 
thought  of  by  him,  or  for  him.  He  gave  his  labors  in  the 
same  disinterested  manner  to  several  private  societies  wha 
wished  to  establish  funds  for  the  benefit  of  their  posterity,  and 
in  return  had  nothing  but  the  warmest  acknowledgments  for 
the  most  important  services.  In  calculations  of  this  kind  the 
merit  of  Dr.  Price  stands  unrivalled,    and  would  be  alone  suf- 


CHARACTER  OF  DR.  PRICE.  179 

ficient  to  transmit  his  name  with  the  greatest  respect  to  future 
ages. 

In  this  disinterested  manner  did  Dr.  Price  uniformly  act, 
though  his  circumstances  were  by  no  means  what  the  world 
would  call  affluent,  considering  that  he  lived  near  the  metro- 
polis, and  in  the  society  of  the  most  opulent  in  it.  But  his 
style  of  life  was  of  the  simplest  kind,  and  he  was  rich,  as 
almost  any  man  may  be,  by  his  moderation  and  economy. 
From  a  moderate  income  he  had  a  very  considerable  surplus, 
in  the  distribution  of  which  he  was  most  judicious  and  lib- 
eral. When,  in  my  great  intimacy  with  him,  I  was  some 
years  ago  remonstrating  against  one  particular  instance  of  his 
liberality,  he  told  me  he  made  it  a  rule  to  expend  one  fifth  of 
his  income  in  some  form  of  charity,  and  only  wished  to  pro- 
duce the  greatest  good  by  it ;  but  that,  had  he  had  children, 
he  would  have  contented  himself  with  giving  a  tenth. 

Here,  my  brethren,  is  an  example  worthy  of  imitation  by 
the  most  opulent  among  you,  and  which,  as  Dr.  Price  is  now 
dead,  I  think  it  not  amiss  to  hold  out  to  you,  and  to  the 
world.  But,  alas  !  the  greater  part  of  those  who  are  possessed 
of  wealth,  instead  of  enlarging  their  fortunes  and  their  means 
of  doing  good,  by  diminishing  their  wants  and  their  expendi- 
ture, are  ever  stretching  them  to  the  utmost  bounds  and 
beyond  the  bounds  of  their  incomes  ;  though  the  evident  con- 
sequences of  this  conduct,  is  their  own  infinite  embarrass- 
ment, and  a  total  incapacity  of  doing  good  to  others.  This, 
however,  is  a  duty  incumbent  upon  all  who  have,  or  who 
might  command,  the  means  of  it ;  a  duty  enjoined  by  the 
great  Being  who,  for  the  wisest  purposes,  viz.  for  promoting 
general  virtue,  for  the  exercise  of  patience,  humility,  and  grati- 
tude in  some,  and  of  generosity  in  others,  has  appointed  that 
inequality  which  we  see  to  prevail  in  the  conditions  of  men 
on  the  face  of  the  whole  earth. 

Such  glorious  characters,  however,  there  are  in  the  world, 
though  little  known  in  the  bustle   and  glitter  of  public  life ; 


180  CHARACTER  OF  DR.   PRICE. 

persons  who  spend  even  more  on  others,  than  they  do  on 
themselves ;  who  really  consider  themselves  as  merely  stew- 
ards of  the  bounty  of  Divine  Providence  and  almoners  of  the 
Almighty,  entitled  only  to  their  portion  for  their  care  of  the 
distribution.  Such  was  Mr.  Howard,  the  intimate  friend  of 
Dr.  Price  ;  and  such  are  others,  whose  names  it  is  their  wish 
to  remain  unknown,  but  which  will  be  proclaimed  at  the 
resurrection  of  the  just,  when  they  who  have  sowed  bounti- 
fully shall  also  reap  bountifully,  and  when  they  who  are  rich 
now,  but  who  make  no  generous  or  wise  use  of  their  riches, 
will  wish  that  they  had  been  poor.  The  good  deeds  of  such 
men,  though  buried  in  oblivion  now,  all  live  unto  God.  They 
are  preserved  in  the  book  of  his  remembrance,  and  in  that 
book  the  characters  are  indelible,  as  the  volume  is  imperish- 
able. 

Dr.  Price's  piety,  which  is  the  surest  foundation  of  all  vir- 
tue, was  no  less,  though  it  was  less  conspicuous,  than  his  be- 
nevolence. The  peculiar  fervor  of  his  devotion,  ever  ex- 
pressed in  the  most  natural  and  unaffected  manner,  you  must 
have  constantly  observed  in  the  pulpit,  and  in  all  his  public 
services  of  which  prayer  made  apart;  and  the  deep  sense  that 
he  had  of  the  constant  presence  and  providence  of  God  was 
always  apparent  in  his  conversation  on  religious  subjects. 
But  such  marks  of  strong  devotional  feelings  as  he  discovered 
when  he  was  under  less  constraint,  in  the  more  private  devo- 
tions of  his  family  (of  which  .some  of  his  more  familiar  reli- 
gious friends  must  have  been  occasionally  witnesses),  I  have 
seldom  seen  in  any  other  person  ;  and  as  he  was  too  apt  to 
look  at  the  dark  side  of  things,  sentiments  of  the  deepest  rev- 
erence, and  the  most  entire  submission  to  the  Divine  will, 
were  most  predominant  on  such  occasions.  I  can  compare 
the  earnest  manner  in  which  he  always  expressed  himself  at 
those  times,  to  nothing  but  what  we  may  conceive  to  have 
been  that  of  our  Saviour  in  the  garden,  when,  in  prayer  to 
his  Almighty  Father,  he  said.  Not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done. 
—  No  doubt  he   felt  more  intensely  still  in  his  more  private 


CHARACTER  OF  DR.  PRICE.  181 

devotions,  when,  with  or  without  the  use  of  words,  he  poured 
out  his  whole  heart  to  his  Father  who  seeth  in  secret.  It  was 
evident  to  all  his  acquaintance,  that  his  devotion  was  both  ' 
intense  and  habitual,  the  idea  of  God  and  his  providence 
being  never  long  absent  from  his  mind.  No  person  well  ac- 
quainted with  Dr.  Price  could  say,  that  rational  sentiments  of 
Christianity  are  unfriendly  to  devotion. 

Perhaps  the  sentiments  of  no  man's  mind  were  ever  more 
clearly  perceived  in  the  natural  expression  of  them,  than  those 
of  Dr.  Price.  It  was  impossible  to  converse  with  him,  and 
not  apply  to  him  the  character  which  our  Saviour  gave  to 
Nathaniel,  of  a  man  without  guile.  Such  simplicity  of  man- 
ners, with  such  genuine  marks  of  perfect  integrity  and  benev- 
olence, diffused  around  him  a  charm,  whiclv  the  forms  of  po- 
liteness can  but  poorly  imitate.  Accordingly,  his  society  was 
coveted  by  those  who  were  bred  in  courts,  as  superior  to  any 
thing  they  found  in  the  most  polished  circles. 

As  a  preacher,  without  any  thing  that  is  termed  oratory, 
he  never  failed  to  gain  universal  attention  ;  and  what  he  de- 
livered in  his  plain  and  artless  manner,  coming  evidently  from 
the  heart,  made  a  deeper  impression  than  those  discourses 
which  are  heard  with  the  loudest  bursts  of  applause.  I  am 
confident  that  all  that  you  who  have  attended  upon  his  minis- 
try can  wish  for  in  a  speaker,  is  such  a  delivery  as  his,  which 
to  appearance  had  nothing  in  it  that  was  striking,  or  pecu- 
liarly excellent,  because  it  was  unstudied. 
*  *  * 

Notwithstanding  Dr.  Price's  ability,  whicl\  however  was 
the  least  article  in  his  praise,  and  the  confidence  which,  on 
that  account,  he  might  be  supposed  to  place  in  his  own  judg- 
ment, which  no  man  took  more  pains  to  form,  he  was  remark- 
ably diffident  of  himself,  and  in  public  controversy  his  natu- 
rally ingenuous  temper  led  him  to  express  his  doubts  in  the 
frankest  manner  ;  and  though,  when  he  thought  his  argu- 
ment well-founded,  he  made  use  of  pretty  strong  language,  he 
did  not  think  the  worse  of  his  antagonists  in  a  moral  respect. 


182  CHARACTER  OF  DR.  PRICE. 

The  topics  on  which  he  engaged  in  controversy  with  myself 
were  those  on  which  it  is  well  known  that  he  laid  peculiar  stress. 
He  thought  some  of  them  to  be  of  great  importance  even  in  a 
practical  view;  and  yet  my  openly  differing  from  him  with 
regard  to  them,  made  no  change  whatever  in  his  respect  for 
me.  Nay,  if  I  might  judge  from  appearances,  which  in  him 
were  never  deceitful,  it  increased  that  respect.  Nor,  which  is 
another  usual  effect  of  public  controversy,  did  he  in  conse- 
quence of  it  become  more  tenacious  of  the  opinions  for  which 
he  contended.  Judging  by  the  same  sure  appearances,  he 
became  in  consequence  of  it  more  doubtful,  and  on  many 
occasions,  with  his  usual  ingenuousness,  never  scrupled  to 
acknowledge  it ;  though  it  did  not  appear  that  his  opinions 
were  materially  changed.  That  this  circumstance  did  not 
diminish  my  respect  for  him,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at. 
Besides  I  did  not  lay  the  same  stress  on  the  points  in  dispute 
that  he  did.  In  real  candor,  I  question  whether  Dr.  Price 
ever  had  a  superior. 

The  greatest  defect  in  Dr  Price  arose  from  an  excess  of 
this  amiable  virtue  of  candor.  He  could  hardly  see  a  fault 
in  those  to  whom  he  was  much  attached.  Of  this  pleasmg 
foible  I  myself  was  happy  to  have  the  advantage. 

Dr.  Price's  extreme  unwillingness  to  disoblige  any  person, 
was  the  occasion  of  no  small  trouble  and  embarrassment 
to  him.  His  well  known  public  spirit  and  benevolence  brought 
upon  him  many  applications  for  advice  and  assistance  and 
many  requests  of  personal  interviews,  which  he  did  not  know 
how  to  decline.  In  this  case  alone  did  he  want  firmness  of 
mind.  In  the  cause  of  truth  or  public  liberty,  no  man  had 
less  concern  about  what  any  person  thought,  or  said  of  him  ; 
but  he  could  not  without  great  pain  to  himself,  do  any  thing 
that  had  the  appearance  of  being  unkind,  or  uncivil.  On  this 
principle  he  sacrificed  much  of  his  own  ease  and  satisfaction 
to  that  of  others.  He  often  complained  to  me,  and  I  doubt 
not  to  others  of  his  friends,  of  his  want  of  resolution  in  this 


CHARACTER  OF  DR.  PRICE.  183 

respect,  and  the  great  loss  of  time,  which  he  could  very  ill 
spare,  by  this  means. 

Humility  is  a  virtue  nearly  allied  to  canlor  and  benevo- 
lence, and  I  never  knew  a  person  less  sensible  of  his  own 
excellencies,  or  so  little  elated  by  the  great  celebrity  to  which 
he  attained  (and  this  was  greater  than  any  dissenting  min- 
ister ever  acquired  before  him),  as  Dr.  Price  was. 

But  with  the  greatest  disposition  to  please,  and  to  comply 
with  others  as  far  as  he  innocently  could,  he  never  made  a 
sacrifice  of  his  opinions  to  complaisance,  but  on  all  p-oper 
occasions  openly  avowed  every  important  principle  that  he 
held.  Conversing  much  with  the  world  at  large,  and  of 
course  with  many  unbelievers,  he  always  appeared  a  zealous 
Christian,  and  with  bigots,  a  rational  one  ;  so  that  to  the 
latter  he  was,  from  very  early  life,  an  object  of  dislike ;  and 
his  zeal  for  what  are  usually  called  liberal  opinions  in  reli- 
gion, was  as  great  as  theirs  for  those  of  an  opposite  kind. 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  REV.  ROBERT  ROBINSON. 


He  was  a  wonderful  example  of  a  man  rising  to  consider- 
able eminence  by  his  own  exertions.  His  education  was  no 
other  than  tliat  of  a  grammar  school,*  and  his  first  serious 
turn  was  given  to  him  by  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Whitefield.t 

*  Mr.  Robinson  was  educated  under  the  Rev.  Joseph  Brett,  at  Seam- 
ing in  Norfolk,  where  the  late  Mr.  Norris,  [who  founded  a  Divinity 
Professorsliip  at  Cambridge,]  the  present  Lord  High  Chancellor, 
[Tiiurlow],  and  most  of  the  gentlemen  of  that  county,  received  the 
rudiments  of  learning.  There  Mr.  Robinson  was  taught  the  Latin, 
Greek,  and  French  languages,  and  he  was  a  great  favorite  with  his 
master  on  account  of  his  "  large  capacity,  uncommon  genius,  and 
refined  taste,"  which  were  the  words  his  master  used  when  speaking  of 
him  at  twelve  years  of  age.  He  added,  that  "  he  e.xpected  great 
honor  from  him  in  future  life."  This  was  when  Mr.  Robinson  was 
intended  for  the  church  ;  and  it  does  not  appear  that  he  was  ever  en- 
gaged in  business.  (P.J  Advertisement.  He  was  bound  apprentice  to 
"  a  hair-dresser  in  Crutched  Friars  "  in  1749;  but  his  master  appears  to 
have  given  up  his  indentures  some  time  before  the  expiration  of  the 
term.  —  Dyer's  Mem.  p.  11.  See  ibid.  pp.  8-11.  Brief  Mem.  pp. 
xiii.  -XV. 

\  See  Dyer's  Mem.  pp.  18-25.  In  Mon.  Repos.  VIT.  G78,  G79, 1 
mentioned  my  t  'o  short  acquaintance  with  this  extraordinary  man,  and 
described  a  curious  record  in  my  possesion.  It  is  in  a  copy  of  Jen- 
nings's "  Life  of  Cotton  Mather."  At  the  beginning  of  the  book  is 
written  Robert  Robinson,  1754,  prefixed   to  the  verse  Ilcb.  vi.  12.     The 


CHARACTER  OF  ROBERT  ROBINSON.  185 

But  he  gradually  devoted  himself  wholly  to  the  work  of  the 
ministry  among  the  Baptists,  and  in  the  discharge  of  the 
duties  of  it,  especially  in  his  labors  among  the  lower  ranks 
of  people,  he  greatly  distinguished  himself.  What  you  saw 
and  heard  of  him  here  would  give  you  no  idea  of  what 
he  had  been.  For,  the  disorder  to  which  he  had  been  more 
than  a  year  subject,  and  which,  it  is  said,  was  brought  on 
by  intense,  and  I  may  say  intemperate  application  to  study, 
had  weakened  his  mind,  as  well  as  his  body,  and,  as  is  always 
the  case,  much  more  than  he  was  himself  aware  of;  though 
he  still  retained  a  fluency  of  speech  and  a  command  of 
language,  that  few  can  boast.  When  he  was  in  his  prime, 
he  used,  without  any  art,  or  ostentation  of  oratory,  perfectly 
to  command  the  attention  of  his  audience;  and  always  speak- 
ing extempore,  he  could  vary  his  style  and  address,  accord- 
ing to  his  hearers,  in  a  manner  that  was  truly  wonderful. 
His  writings  discover  equal  powers  of  imagination  and  of  judg- 
ment. His  Sermons,  preached  in  the  villages  near  Cam- 
bridge,[*]  are  remarkable  for  their  plainness  and  propriety. 
But  at  the  time  that  they  were  composed  he  had  not  acquired 
all  the  sentiments  that  he  had  before  he  died.  What  most 
of  all  distinguished  Mr.  Robinson  was  his  earnest  love  of 
truth,  and  his  laborious  search  after  it.  Educated  in  Calvinistic 


account  of  his  birth  and  parentage,  and  what  he  considered  as    hia 
nero  birth,  is  thus  written  by  himself  at  the  end  of  the  book  : 

"  Robertus,  Micliaelis  Mariaeque  Robinson  Filius. 

Natus  Svvaffliami,  Comitatu  Norfolciae, 

Saturni  die,  Sep  27,  1735. 

Renatua  Sabbati  die,  Maii  24,  1742, 

Per  prsedicationem  poteiiteni  Georgii  Whitefield. 

Et,  gustatis  doloribus  Renovationis,  duos  annos  menses 

Que  septem,  absolutioneni  plenam  gratuitamque 

Per  sanguinem  pretiosam  Jesu  Christi 
Inveni,  (Tuesday,  Dec.  10,  1755,)  cui  sit  honor 
Et  gloria,  in  sccula  seculorum.     Amen." 

[•  Republished  in  this  country  a  few  years  since.] 


186  CHARACTER  OF  ROBERT  ROBINSON. 

principles,  he  was  the  greatest  part  of  his  life  very  zealous  in 
the  propagation  of  them.  I  myself  remember  hearing  him 
many  years  ago  explaining  the  Calvinistic  doctrine  of  justifi- 
cation, to  a  crowded  and  very  attentive  audience  in  London. 
Mr.  Lindsey's  resignation  of  his  living  in  the  Church  of 
England  and  his  writings  in  defence  of  Unitarianism,  exciting 
a  good  deal  of  attention,  Mr.  Robinson  published  a  book 
entitled  "  A  Plea  for  the  Divinity  of  Christ,"  one  of  the 
most  plausible  of  the  treatises  on  that  side  of  the  question,  and 
the  only  one  that  Mr.  Lindsey  thought  proper  to  reply  to. 
For  this  work  Mr.  Robinson  was  very  much  caressed  by  the 
friends  of  the  established  Church ;  and  on  this  account,  I 
believe  it  was,  that  he  had  the  offer  of  considerable  prefer- 
ment in  the  Church  of  England,  which,  however,  with  great 
magnanimity,  he  rejected.*  Notwithstanding  his  long  attach- 
ment to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  yet  continuing  to  read 
and  think  on  the  subject,  he  came  at  length  to  change  his 
opinion,  and  before  he  died  he  was  one  of  the  most  zealous 
Unitarians. f  The  subject  of  the  Divine  Unity  was  generally 
uppermost  in  his  mind,  and  he  urged  it  not  only  in   season, 

but,  as  you  would  observe,  even  out  of  season. 

*  *  * 

Mr.  Robinson  has  long  been  distinguished  as  a  writer  ;  and 

*  "  Handriome  proposals  were  readily  made  him,  but  were  modestly, 
though  firmly,  rejected.  On  Dr.  Ogdon's  addressing  him, '  Do  the 
Dissenters  know  tlie  worth  of  the  man  ? '  Robinson  replied,  '  The  man 
knows  the  worth  of  the  Dissenters.'  "  —  Dyer's  Mem.  pp.  198,  199. 

1  I  have  tlie  happiness  to  think  that  this  important  change  in  Mr. 
Robinson's  sentiments  was  in  some  measure  occasioned  by  my  own 
writings.  For  in  the  only  letter  that  I  ever  received  from  him  (which 
was  in  answer  to  one  that  I  was  desired  to  write,  in  order  to  invite 
him  to  preach  our  charity  sermon)  he  says  what,  without  mentioning  his 
name,  I  have  already  quoted  in  the  Prifacc  to  my  Letters  to  Mr.  Bum: 
"  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  the  little  I  know  of  rational,  defensible 
Christianity.  But  for  your  friendly  aid  I  fear  I  should  have  gone  from 
enthusiasm  to  Deism ;  but  a  faith  founded  upon  evidence  rests  on  a 
rock." 


CHARACTER   OF  ROBERT  ROBINSON.  187 

his  zeal  as  a  Dissenter  soon  brouglit  upon  him  the  peculiar 
indignation  of  the  friends  of  the  Establishment.  Upon  every 
occasion  of  any  thing  being  brought  before  Parliament  in 
favor  of  the  Dissenters,  his  Plan  of  Lecture?,  on  the  Principles 
of  Nonconformity  (which  I  would  take  this  opportunity  of 
recommending  to  you)  has  never  failed  to  be  produced  by 
our  enemies,  as  an  evidence  of  our  hostile  intentions  with 
respect  to  the  established  Church.  But  it  is  no  proof  of  the 
excellence  of  that  establishment,  that  so  acute  an  observer  as 
Mr.  Robinson,  and  who,  I  believe,  had  himself  been  a  member 
of  it,  should  come  to  think  so  ill  of  it.  Severe  as  his  cen- 
sures are,  I  have  no  doubt  of  their  being  perfectly  just ;  and 
in  matters  of  religion,  there  is  certainly  no  room  for  complai- 
sance. Let  every  thing  of  this  nature  be  most  rigorously  ex- 
amined, and  let  it  stand  or  fall  by  its  own  merit. 

I  would  particularly  recommend  to  your  imitation  Mr.  Rob- 
inson's exemplary  conduct  in  the  education  that  he  gave  to  his 
numerous  family,  notonly  in  religion,  but  in  all  branches  of  use- 
ful knowledge  ;  by  no  means  neglecting  his  daughters.  To 
their  understandings  his  good  sense  taught  him  to  give  the  same 
cultivation  as  to  those  of  his  sons,  that  is,  the  highest  of  which 
they  were  capable.  Getting  over  a  vulgar  and  debasing  pre- 
judice (that  women,  being  designed  for  domestic  cares, 
should  be  taught  nothing  beyond  them),  and  finding  his  daugh- 
ters capable  of  it,  he  himself  taught  them  the  learned  and  the 
modern  languages,  and  he  got  them  instructed  by  others  in 
mathematics  and  philosophy.  Certainly,  the  minds  of  women 
are  capable  of  the  same  improvement  and  the  same  furniture 
as  those  of  men ;  and  it  is  of  importance  that,  when  they 
have  leisure,  they  should  have  the  same  resource  in  reading^ 
and  the  same  power  of  instructing  the  world  by  writing,  that 
men  have ;  and  that,  if  they  be  mothers,  they  be  capable  of 
assisting  in  the  instruction  of  their  children  ;  to  which  they 
have  generally  more    opportunity  to  attend  than  the  fathers- 

In  all  labors  proper  for   his  station,  and  for  the    public. 


18S  CHAnACTER  OF  ROBERT  ROBINSON. 

Mr.  Robinson  was  most  abundant.*  In  this  let  us  imitate 
him.  Whatever  our  respective  callings  may  be,  let  us,  like 
him,  faithfully  and  assiduously  discharge  the  duties  of  them. 
Our  Master  is  now  absent,  l>ut  he  will  in  due  time  make 
his  appearance.  May  we  so  conduct  ourselves,  as  not  to  be 
ashamed  before  him  at  his  coming.  Warned,  more  espe- 
cially, by  the  suddenness  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Robinson,  and 
that  of  many  others  of  which  we  are  continually  hearing, 
let  us  see  that  we  be  always  ready ;  since  at  such  an  hour 
as  we  think  not,  the  Son  of  Man  may  come. 

*  To  recommend  just  notions  of  civil  government,  he  published,  in 
1782,  that  Political  Catechism  which  was  honored  by  the  public  cen- 
sures of  Burke.  To  serve  the  cause  of  justice  and  humanity,  he  pre- 
pared the  petition,  from  Cambridge,  against  the  Slave  Trade  :  one  of 
the  earliest  presented  to  the  House  of  Commons  ;  and  in  1788,  he 
preached  and  published  a  Sermon,  entitled  "  Slavery  inconsistent  with 
the  Spirit  of  Christianity,"  from  Luke,  iv.  18.  The  preacher  happily 
remark.^,  that  "  a  proclamation  of  liberty  to  captives  meets  the  wishes 
of  both  sufl'erers  and  spectators,  and  grates  only  on  the  ears  of  a  tyrant 
who  makes  slaves,  and  masters  who  hold  them  in  servitude," 


MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS. 


If  we  consider  the  great  prize  for  which  we  contend,  that 
life  and  immortality  are  set  before  us,  we  cannot  think  that 
we  can  sacrifice  too  much  to  it,  though  we  should  be  required 
to  abandon  life  and  all  the  enjoyments  of  it.  We  are  in  real- 
ity, no  Christians  except  in  name,  unless  Christianity  be  the 
primary  object  with  us,  and  every  thing  else  be  a  secondary 
pursuit.  And  they  who  think  they  can  give  their  time,  their 
talents,  and  their  heart  to  the  world,  and  seldom  think  of  any 
thing  else,  and  yet  imagine  they  may  secure  the  happiness 
ofhe&ven  after  all,  will  find  that  they  miserably  deceive  them- 
selves. This  is  the  reason  why  our  Lord  says  "  It  is  easier 
for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle  than  for  a  rich 
man  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  God,"  because  riches  naturally 
engage  much  of  a  man's  thoughts,  care,  and  affection,  and 
leave  him  little  time  to  attend  to  better  things.  Indeed,  the 
rich  seldom  think  that  there  are  any  better  things  than  riches, 
even  though  they  never  find  themselves  happy  or  satisfied 
with  them ;  on  the  contrary  a  true  Christian  will  take  more 
thought  how  to  spend  his  wealth  properly  than  to  add  to  it. 
By  this  rule,  then,  let  us  try  ourselves. 

We  ought  therefore  to  consider  well  with  ourselves, 
whether  we  are  determined  to  maintain  the  profession  and 
practice  of  Christianity  at  all  risks.  Without  this  we  are  no 
Christians,  but  merely  men  of  the  world,  who  follow  the  mul- 
titude which  happens  to  be  what  is  called  Christian  ;  but  who 
from  the  same  principle  would  have  been  pagans  and  Ma- 


190  MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS. 

hommedans.  To  be  Christians  indeed,  we  must  be  so  in 
principle  and  from  reflection,  weighing  well  the  truth  and 
value  of  the  profession,  and  determined  to  give  up  every 
thing,  even  life  itself,  that  may  be  required  by  it. 


The  surest  criterion  of  our  advancing  in  real  excellence 
and  perfection  of  character,  is  our  acquiring  a  disposition  to 
think  less  of  ourselves  and  of  our  own  happiness,  and  more 
of  that  of  others. 


If  the  zeal  of  this  apostle,  his  unwearied  labors,  his  patient 
suffering,  and  prudent  conduct,  could  not  save  him  from  con- 
tinual opposition,  and  even  from  those  who  professed  the 
same  gospel  with  liimself,  why  should  we  wonder  at  the 
like  happening  at  this  day,  when  Christians  are  much  more 
divided  among  themselves,  and  when  there  are  consequently 
many  more  occasions  of  offence.  It  ought  to  satisfy  every 
man,  as  it  did  the  apostle  Paul,  that  he  can  acquit  himself  to 
his  own  conscience,  and  to  God  who  knows  the  heart.  What- 
ever we  suffer  from  friends  or  enemies,  while  we  act  in  this 
manner,  we  shall  be  abundantly  recompensed  at  a  future 
day. 


If,  therefore,  I  mean  to  follow  Christ,  I  must  be  more 
especially  upon  my  guard  against  adopting  that  mode  of  faith 
or  practice  which  it  is  my  interest,  or  which  it  is  fashionable, 
for  me  to  adopt;  it  being  a  priori,  probable,  that  what  "is 
hio-hly  esteemed  among  men,  is  abomination  in  the  sight  of 
God."  The  true  Christian  must  obey  God,  and  not  man  ;  he 
must  not  "  follow  a  multitude  to  do  evil,"  and  must  be  con- 
tent to  "  take  up  his  cross,"  suffer  persecution,  and  follow 
Christ  here,  if  he  would  reign  \vith  him  hereafter. 


MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS.  191 

Let  it  appear  that  the  principal  object  of  your  attention  is 
the  proper  duty  of  your  profession,  and  let  no  taste  you  may 
have  for  the  polite  arts,  as  music,  painting,  or  poetry,  nor  a 
capacity  for  the  improvements  in  science,  engage  you  to 
make  them  more  than  an  amusement  to  you,  or,  at  the  most, 
any  more  than  an  object  of  secondary  consideration.  Let 
not  even  the  study  of  speculative  theology  prevent  your  ap- 
plying yourself  chiefly  to  the  advancement  of  virtue  among 
your  hearers.  Let  your  conduct  demonstrate,  that  you  con- 
sider one  soul  reclaimed  from  vicious  habits,  or  even  one  per- 
son's mind  confirmed  in  any  good  resolution,  as  a  greater 
acquisition  to  you,  than  the  detection  of  any  speculative 
error,  the  illustration  of  any  known  truth,  or  the  discovery  of 
any  new  ones. 


How  many  are  there  who,  in  the  most  solemn  forms,  sub- 
scribe to  articles  of  faith  which  they  do  not  believe,  when  they 
would  not  on  any  account  make  a  false  declaration  in  any 
other  form  1  This  conduct,  however,  is  such  as  no  person 
can  justify ;  and  all  that  can  be  said  in  excuse  for  it  is,  that 
it  is  doing  evil  that  good  may  come. 


To  me,  I  cannot  help  saying,  it  appears  that  the  present 
state  of  Christianity  is  rather  critical,  and  very  much  re- 
quires to  be  looked  into  by  all  its  real  and  sincere  friends. 
Men  of  good  sense  and  of  cultivated  minds  in  other  respects, 
cannot  but  be  aware  of  many  things  which  are  evidently  ab- 
surd in  the  prevailing  tenets  of  the  great  part  of  Christians ; 
and  while  no  real  friend  of  Christianity  has  the  courage  to 
show  them  that  the  things  they  dislike  and  object  to,  do  not 
belong  to  that  religion,  it  can  be  no  wonder  that  they  conceive 
a  prejudice  against  the  whole  scheme,  and  become   secret,  if 


192  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS. 

not  open  and  avowed  infidels.  That  this  is  the  case  at  this 
day,  not  with  the  unthinking  and  profligate  only,  but  with 
many  persons  of  reading,  of  reflection,  and  of  the  most  irre- 
proachable conduct  in  life,  is  well  known.  It  is  also  appa- 
rent, that  the  number  of  such  persons  is  daily  increasing; 
and  unless  some  remedy  be  applied  to  the  growing  evil,  we 
shall,  in  time,  be  in  the  condition  of  our  neighbours  the  Pa- 
pists, with  whom  the  thinking  men,  in  the  church  as  well  as 
among  the  laity,  are  generally  infidels,  and  all  the  unthink- 
ing are  bigots. 


/  It  has  pleased  the  Divine  Being,  for  good  and  obvious  rea- 
sons, not  to  make  the  terms  of  salvation  so  very  determinate, 
as  that  a  man  shall  be  able  to  pronounce  with  absolute  cer- 
tainty concerning  the  future  state  of  himself  or  others,  while 
we  are  in  this  life.  It  is  evidently  the  best  for  us  to  be  never 
without  the  influence  of  hope  and  fear  ;  and  therefore  all 
that  we  have  authority  to  say  from  the  Scriptures,  is,  that 
when  we  have  a  fixed  resolution  to  do  our  duty,  as  far  as  it  is 
known  to  us,  we  have  a  reason  to  hope  ;  and  that  when  we 
either  have  not  that  resolution,  or  when  our  virtuous  purpo- 
ses are  easily  overborne  by  the  influence  of  temptation,  we 
have  reason  to  fear.  This  is  the  nearest  that  any  man  can 
judge,  even  in  his  own  case  ;  and  by  this  rule  let  every  man 
examine  himself,  though  not  with  a  view  to  church  com- 
munion. All  that  otliers  can  see  or  judge  is,  whether  a 
man's  conduct  in  life  be  such  as  is  unworthy  of  their  society; 
that  is,  in  this  case,  contradictory  to  his  profession  as  a 
Christian,  and  such  as  would  be  in  danger  of  corrupting  or 
disgracing  them. 


MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS.  193 

Much  as  I  differ  from  Mr.  Wesley  in  religious  sentiments, 
I  have  the  highest  opinion  of  his  integrity,  and  I  consider  his 
services  of  more  importance  than  those  of  many  benches  of 
bishops.  I  doubt  not  he  intends  great  good,  and,  in  my 
opinion,  he  will  be  the  cause,  in  the  hands  of  Providence,  of 
much  more  good  than  he  intends  or  wishes. 


It  is  true  I  am  an  avowed  enemy  to  the  Church  establish- 
ment of  this  country,  but  by  no  means  to  any  who  belong  to 
it.  I  write  against  Calvinism,  but  have  the  greatest  respect 
for  many  Calvinists,  and  wish  to  make  them  exchange  their 
darkness  for  my  light.  I  am  also  an  enemy  to  atheism  and 
deism,  but  not  to  atheists  and  deists.  I  have  a  particular 
friendship  for  many  of  them,  in  this  country  and  in  other 
countries,  and  I  write  to  inform  and  reclaim  them.  There 
is  nothing  personal  in  all  this.  They  think  as  unfavorably 
of  my  system  as  I  do  of  theirs.  Let  points  of  difference  be 
freely  discussed.  Truth  will  be  a  gainer  by  it.  But  let  us 
respect  one  another,  as  we  respect  truth  itself;  love  all  and 
wish  the  good  of  all,  without  distinction.  This  is  true  can- 
dor, and  consistent  with  the  greatest  zeal  for  our  particular 
opinions. 


As  the  Indian  said  to  the  Spanish  priest,  who  would  have 
persuaded  him  to  be  baptized  in  the  article  of  death,  threat- 
ening that  if  he  did  not  submit  to  that  ceremony,  he  would 
certainly  go  to  hell,  whither  all  his  ancestors  went  before 
him,  that  "  he  chose  to  go  to  his  ancestors,  rather  than  to 
any  place  whither  the  Spaniards  went ;  "  so.  Sir,  judging 
of  the  tree  by  its  fruits,  I  shall  willingly  take  my  chance  with 
pious,  virtuous,  and  candid  Unitarians,  with  such  men  as 
Dr.  Lardner,  Dr.  Jebb,  &i,c.  who  brought  no  railing  accusa- 
13 


194  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS. 

tions  against  any  man  (though  sentenced  by  your  church 
"without  doubt  to  perish  everlastingly  ")  rather  than  with 
those  who  scruple  no  misrepresentation  or  abuse  to  promote 
their  cause,  though  in  itself  it  should  be  ever  so  good.  Fear- 
ing God,  and  respecting  his  truth,  I  hope  I  shall  never  fear 
what  man  may  say  of  me,  or  do  to  me  ;  least  of  all  in  another 
world,  where,  happily,  your  power  does  not  extend. 


If  any  writings  can  be  said  to  authenticate  themselves,  by 
internal  marks  of  their  being  written  by  the  persons  whose 
name  they  bear,  and  at  the  time  to  which  their  contents 
refer,  they  are  the  books  of  the  Scripture.  It  is  not  possible 
for  any  person  of  tolerable  judgment  in  such  things,  to  read 
them  with  due  attention,  and  not  acknowledge  this,  whatever 
maybe  his  opinion  of  them  in  other  respects.  There  are, 
however,  in  all  these  books  such  genuine  marks  of  integrity 
and  piety,  as  must  satisfy  any  reasonable  person  that  no  im- 
position or  deception  of  any  kind  (if  in  their  circumstances 
it  had  been  possible,  which  it  evidently  was  not)  was  intended 
by  the  writers.  They  relate  nothing  but  what  they  knew  or 
believed  to  be  true,  and,  situated  as  they  were,  they  could  not 
have  been  deceived  themselves  ;  so  that  without  external  evi- 
dence (which  however  is  abundant)  all  persons  who  feel  as 
they  felt  with  respect  to  God  and  man,  cannot  help  receiv- 
ing their  testimony  to  the  most  wonderful  of  the  facts  they 
relate  without  hesitation.  Writing  from  the  heart,  they  wrote 
to  the  hearts  of  all  persons  whose  characters  are  like  their  own. 


The  doctrine  of  modern  unbelievers,  with  respect  to  mor- 
als, is  far  from  being  a  confirmation  of  what  was  so  confi- 
dently advanced  by  their  predecessors,  concerning  the  clear- 
ness and  sufficiency  of  the  light  of  nature  on  that  important 


MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS.  195 

subject ;  for  they  are  discordant  in  the  extreme,  and  many  of" 
them  such  as  would  have  shocked  Lord  Herbert  and  Lord 
Shaftesbury,  almost  as  much  as  they  do  Christians  ;  for,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  little  account  the  generality  of  unbelievers 
make  of  the  vice  of  sensual  indulgence  of  any  kind,  even 
the  most  unnatural,  the  latest  writers  of  this  class  exclude 
gratitude  from  the  rank  of  virtues,  and  deny  the  obligation  of 
promises,  oaths,  and  even  of  the  bonds  of  matrimony,  plead- 
ing for  a  community  of  women  ;  principles  which,  if  acted 
upon,  would  soon  throw  the  world  into  the  greatest  confu- 
sion, and  reduce  men  to  the  condition  of  brute  beasts,  and  in 
the  end  to  universal  hostility,  though  they  are  inconsistently 
advocates  for  universal  peace. 


The  moral  uses  of  the  very  few  positive  institutions  in  the 
Christian  religion,  are  sufficiently  obvious ;  but  admitting 
that  they  were  not  so,  it  ought  to  suffice  us  that  they  are 
enjoined  by  a  competent  authority ;  and  the  man  who  can 
knowingly  transgress  any  one  acknowledged  command, 
though,  to  his  apprehension,  ever  so  unmeaning,  is  certainly 
destitute  of  respect  to  the  authority  by  which  it  is  enjoined, 
and  of  a  principle  of  obedience  in  general ;  which  with  re- 
spect to  God,  is  in  the  highest  degree  criminal  and  danger- 
ous. You  do  not  yourselves  always  give  to  a  servant,  or  a 
child,  the  reasons  of  your  commands,  and  yet  you  justly 
expect  implicit  obedience  ;  and  you  would  consider  their 
peremptory  disobedience  as  deserving  of  the  severest  punish- 
ment, though  the  thing  itself  should  be  ever  so  trifling. 


Better  had  it  been  for  you  to  have  believed  in  three,  or 
three  hundred  gods,  and  those  of  wood  and  stone,  than  to 
believe  in  the  one  only  living  and  true  God,  and,  at  the  same 


196  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS. 

time,  live  as  without  him  in  the  world,  entirely  thoughtless 
of  his  being,  character,  and  government,  as  if  you  were  not 
accountable  to  him  for  your  conduct.  Infinitely  better  were 
it  for  you  to  believe  whatever  the  most  stupid  of  mankind 
have  believed  concerning  God,  than  disregard  his  laws,  pro- 
fane his  name,  or  neglect  his  worship. 

Better  were  it  for  you  to  have  believed  in  a  revengeful,  im- 
placable object  of  worship,  than  to  believe  in  a  God  truly  mer- 
ciful and  gracious,  who  freely,  and  for  his  goodness'  sake 
only,  forgives  all  the  sincerely  penitent,  and  has  sent  his  Son 
to  live  and  die  in  order  to  bring  men  to  repentance,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  not  to  be  solicitous  to  become  the  proper 
objects  of  mercy,  or  not  to  imitate  such  an  amiable  pattern 
and  be  merciful  as  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven  is  merciful ; 
freely,  and  without  any  satisfaction,  forgiving,  as  you  your- 
selves hope  to  be  forgiven.  In  short,  better  were  it  for  you 
to  believe  all  the  absurdities  of  the  Church  of  Rome  than  not 
to  add  purity  of  heart  and  life  to  purity  of  doctrine  and  wor- 
ship. 


Think  not,  however,  my  brethren,  that  the  most  fervent 
zeal  for  what  are  apprehended  to  be  the  genuine  doctrines 
of  the  gospel,  is  at  all  inconsistent  with  true  Christian  charity  ; 
which  always  judges  of  particular  persons  according  to  the 
advantages  they  have  enjoyed,  and  of  the  final  state  of  men 
by  their  sincerity  only.  And,  for  my  own  part,  I  have  no 
doubt  but  that,  though  the  Church  of  Rome  be  the  proper 
Antichrist  of  the  apostles,  not  only  innumerable  zealous  papists 
but  even  some  popes  themselves,  and  since  the  time  of  the 
Reformation,  will  sit  down  with  Luther,  with  Calvin  and  with 
Socinus,  in  the  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 
Known  unto  God  alone  are  the  hearts  of  men  ;  and  the  man 
who  honestly  pursues  truth,  and  who  acts  according  to  the 
best  lights  that  God  gives  him  an  opportunity  of  acquiring, 


MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS.  197 

will  be  he  whom  the  God  of  truth  and  uprightness  will  approve  ; 
and  none  will  suffer  a  greater  or  more  just  condemnation, 
than  those  who  hold  the  truth  in  unrighteousness. 

Much  rather  would  I  be  in  the  case  of  many  worthy  persons 
in  the  Church  of  England,  or  the  Church  of  Rome,  who,  at 
the  same  time  that  they  are  fully  sensible  of  the  corruptions 
and  errors  of  the  system  in  which  they  are  entangled,  are  not 
able  to  break  their  chains,  than,  from  a  spirit,  the  reverse  of 
that  of  the  gospel,  make  an  improper  use  of  my  own  liberty 
by  insulting  them.  Many,  very  many,  it  cannot  be  doubted, 
would  have  the  courage  to  die  at  a  stake,  in  times  of  serious 
persecution,  who  in  such  times  as  ours,  have  not  the  mental 
fortitude  to  act  the  part  of  a  Robinson,  a  Jebb,  an  Evanson, 
or  especially  a  Lindsey.  No  person  educated  a  Dissenter 
can  pretend  to  such  merit  as  this,  because  none  of  us  have 
been  in  their  circumstances;  and  I  hope  there  may  be  great 
merit  in  human  characters  far  short  of  theirs. 


I  hope  I  shall  always  consider  speculation  as  subservient  to 
practice.  The  most  exact  knowledge  of  truth,  and  the  great- 
est zeal  for  it,  will  avail  nothing  without  the  practice  of  those 
virtues  which  the  most  uninstructed  of  mankind  perfectly 
understand.  Nay,  the  more  knowledge  we  have  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  of  the  general  plan  and  object  of  it,  the  more 
inexcusable  shall  we  be,  if  we  do  not,  in  the  first  place,  take 
care  to  impress  our  hearts  with  that  love  of  God,  and  that 
unreserved  devotedness  to  his  will,  which  our  Saviour  calls 
the  first  and  greatest  of  all  commandments,  and  also  with  that 
disinterested  good-will  to  our  fellow-creatures,  which  he  calls 
the  second  great  commandment,  and  like  unto  it. 

He  was  himself  equally  exemplary]  with  respect  to  them 
both  ;  and  it  is  in  vain  for  us  to  pretend  to  be  Christians  if 
we  do  not  study  to  resemble  him  (whom   alone  we    are   to 


198  MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS. 

acknowledge   in  the  character  of  Lord  and   Master)  in  the 
disposition  of  our  minds,  and  in  the  conduct  of  our  lives. 


A  principle  of  religion  will  ever  put  a  man  upon  a  va- 
riety of  active  and  vigorous  pursuits.  No  truly  pious  and 
good  man  can  be  an  idle  man.  He  will  fully  employ  all  his 
power  of  doing  good ;  he  will  not  keep  his  talent  hid  in  a 
napkin  ;  and,  far  from  complaining  that  time  hangs  heavy  on 
his  hands,  he  will  rather  complain  that  he  has  not  time 
enough  for  the  execution  of  half  his  benevolent  purposes. 


In  this  Christian  country,  the  Christianity  of  the  greater 
number  is  only  a  secondary  consideration  with  them.  The 
great  objects  with  the  bulk  of  mankind  are  pleasure,  profit, 
or  honor.  Religion,  by  which  I  mean  a  regard  to  God 
and  a  future  life,  is  so  little  thought  of  or  attended  to  by 
them,  that  it  is  no  sensible  check  to  their  pursuits,  and  en- 
forces no  moderation  in  their  gratifications.  Consequently, 
a  man  who  thinks,  who  feels,  and  who  acts  as  really  becomes 
a  Christian,  who  sets  God  always  before  him,  whose  views  are 
primarily  directed  to  a  future  life,  and  who  habitually  consid- 
ers himself  as  a  pilgrim  and  stranger  here  below,  is  a  char- 
acter of  which  they  have  no  conception.  Such  views,  and  a 
conduct  governed  by  them,  they  cannot  enter  into.  To  them, 
therefore,  it  must  appear  either  folly  or  hypocrisy,  and  of 
course  will  be  treated  by  them  with  contempt  or  hatred. 
Their  being  nominally  Christians  themselves  will  not  make 
them  look  with  more  respect  upon  those  who  are  truly  and 
practically  so. 


'  MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS.  199 

The  principles  and  prospects  of  Christianity  are,  in  them- 
selves, so  great  and  so  far  overbalance  all  the  things  of  the 
present  life,  that  they  only  require  to  be  sufficiently  attended  to 
to  make  any  person  do  or  bear  any  thing  for  their  sake. 
What  hardships  will  not  men  undergo,  and  what  risk,  even 
of  life,  will  they  not  run,  in  order  to  obtain  a  great  estate  and 
much  more  a  crown,  in  this  world  1  In  such  a  case  as  this, 
the  mere  pain  of  dying  would  not  be  regarded  by  them,  if 
they  were  sure  that  they  should  not  actually  die,  but  that, 
after  this  suffering,  they  should  certainly  gain  their  purpose. 
This  we  see  in  history,  and  in  common  life,  continually. 
There  can  be  no  doubt,  therefore,  but  that  if  the  same  per- 
sons had  the  same  firm  faith  in  the  future  glorious  rewards 
of  Christianity  that  they  have  with  respect  to  the  things  of 
this  life,  it  would  enable  them  to  do  and  to  suffer  as  much 
in  order  to  obtain  them. 

It  is  only  a  deficiency  of  faith  that  makes  persons  shrink 
from  persecution  and  death  in  the  cause  of  Christianity. 
Because,  in  reality,  all  the  pains  of  this  transitory  life  are 
nothing  in  comparison  of  that  eternal  weight  of  glory  which 
awaits  those  who  have  faith  and  patience  unto  death,  with 
respect  to  another. 


As  we  must  not  make  use  of  violence  or  abuse  ourselves, 
so  we  should  take  it  patiently  when  it  is  offered  by  others. 
It  is  generally  a  proof  that  our  adversaries  have  nothing 
better  to  offer,  and  therefore  is  a  presumption  that  we  have 
truth  on  our  side ;  and  surely  the  sense  of  this  may  well 
enable  us  to  bear  up  under  any  insult  to  which  we  may  be 
exposed.  The  apostles  rejoiced  that  they  were  counted  wor- 
thy to  suffer  shame  in  the  cause  of  Christ ;  and  so  shall  we, 
if  we  have  their  temper,  and  the  same  firm  persuasion  that 
the  cause  in  which  we  engage  is  a  good  one,  and,  conse- 
quently, that  in  proper  time  it  will  appear  to  be  so ;   when 


200  MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS. 

the  insult  and  reproach  that  have  been  thrown  upon  us  all 
will  recoil  upon  those  who  had  recourse  to  them. 


To  an  attentive  reader  there  needs  no  other  evidence  of 
the  authenticity  of  the  books  of  Moses  than  the  manner  in 
which  they  are  written ;  especially  his  most  earnest  and  affec- 
tionate address  to  the  people  before  his  death,  contained  in  the 
book  of  Deuteronomy,  in  which  he  constantly  appeals  to  the 
people  with  respect  to  what  themselves  had  seen  and  heard, 
and  makes  the  most  natural  observations  upon  it.  I  should 
think  it  barely  possible  for  any  person  to  read  only  that  book 
through  with  attention,  and  remain  an  unbeliever  in  the  great 
events  alluded  to  in  it,  and  related  more  at  length  in  the  pre- 
ceding books.  There  is  nowhere  extant,  since  the  art  of 
writing  was  known,  and  since  the  art  has  been  most  im- 
proved, a  mode  of  address  more  expressive  of  genuine  and 
excellent  sentiments,  than  what  we  find  in  this,  the  oldest  of 
all  writers. 


That  such  men  as  Jesus  and  the  apostles  should  either  form 
such  a  scheme  as  that  of  the  regeneration  of  the  world  (for 
Christianity  pretends  to  nothing  less),  when  it  required  ages 
to  effect  it,  or  should  finally  succeed  in  it  notwithstanding  all 
the  obstacles  that  lay  in  their  way,  is  something  more  extraor- 
dinary, more  out  of  the  course  of  nature,  and  therefore  more 
properly  miraculous,  than  any  thing  recorded  in  the  gospels, 
and  consequently,  less  credible. 


Nothing  can  be  more  sublime  in  itself,  or  tend  more  to 
elevate  the  mind  that  contemplates  it,  than  the  idea  of  one 
great  Being,  one  all-comprehensive  Mind,  equal  to  the  whole 


MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS.  301 

work  of  creation  and  providence.  By  the  utmost  efforts  of 
our  minds,  we  cannot  attain  to  more  than  a  very  imperfect 
idea  of  such  a  Being  as  this ;  but  the  very  attempt  to  con- 
template it,  fills  the  mind  with  the  deepest  reverence  and  the 
most  joyful  confidence,  and  likewise  tends  to  engage  our 
obedience  to  his  will ;  also  in  the  habitual  endeavour  to  re- 
semble the  great  object  of  our  worship,  we  shall  study  to 
purify  ourselves,  even  as  he  is  pure. 


It  seems  to  be  the  intention  of  Divine  Providence,  that 
every  thing  should  be  brought  to  perfection  by  degrees.  If 
we  have  any  faith  in  history  and  prophecy,  the  last  age  of 
the  world  is  to  be  infinitely  preferable  to  any  thing  that  we 
have  yet  experienced  ;  and  certainly  the  present  state  of  things 
is  preferable  to  any  that  is  past.  By  means  of  Christianity 
chiefly,  the  great  Governor  of  the  world  is  gradually  bringing 
on  a  state  of  universal  peace  and  happiness,  which  must,  as 
I  have  observed,  imply  the  abolition  of  slavery,  as  well  as  of 
every  other  evil.  But  God  works  by  instruments  ;  and  his 
instruments  in  things  that  respect  mankind,  are  chiefly  men. 


We  are  all  sensible  how  capable  the  condition  of  men  is  of 
improvement ;  and  yet  even  among  those  who  are  themselves 
enlightened  and  well-intentioned,  how  few  are  there  who  are 
sufficiently  active,  so  that  when  they  see  an  evil,  they  will 
seriously  use  their  endeavours  to  remedy  it ;  and  when  they 
see  any  great  good  to  be  attained,  will  excite  themselves  to 
attain  it !  Wealth  is  a  much  easier  sacrifice  than  labor, 
and  yet  how  little  of  this  is  well  applied  !  What  immense 
sums  are  daily  squandered  away  on  frivolous  and  unworthy 
objects,  to  speak  in  the  most  favorable  manner,  and  how 
little  of  it  (and  much  of  that  little  with  grudging,  or  with 


202 


MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS. 


some  sinister  view  which  takes  much  from  the  merit  of  the 
action)  is  applied  to  honorable  and  public  uses!  so  few  there 
are  who  attend  to  the  advice  of  the  apostle,  exhorting  every 
person  to  mind  not  his  own  things  only,  but  every  man  also 
the  things  of  others. 


Better,  infinitely  better,  were  it  to  die  rich  in  good  works 
and  thus  make  the  world  your  heirs,  than  give  wealth  to  indi- 
viduals, for  whose  conduct  and  liberality  you  cannot  answer, 
and  whose  independence  on  personal  exertion  may  do  them 
more  harm  than  good.  It  is,  no  doubt,  the  duty  of  every  man 
to  provide  for  his  own,  and  especially  his  children  and  nearest 
relations  ;  but  wisdom,  and  even  true  affection,  will  set  bounds 
to  that  provision,  and  leave  them  a  sufficient  motive  for  indus- 
try and  economy.  Every  man,  however  attached  to  his  own 
offspring,  or  near  relations,  has  a  clear  right  to  consider  him- 
self as  a  member  of  the  community  at  large ;  and  it  is  even 
incumbent  upon  him  to  set  his  successors  an  example  of  that 
generosity  and  public  spirit,  in  which,  if  he  be  a  wise  and 
liberal  man  himself,  he  must  wish  that  they  would  follow  his 
steps. 


It  is  well  known  that  there  are  states  of  mind,  in  which  no 
attention  will  be  given  to  any  thing  that  is  offensive  to  it.  A 
philosopher  of  great  eminence,  having  advanced  an  opinion 
concerning  something  that  might  be  determined  by  a  micro- 
scopical observation,  refused  to  look  through  a  microscope 
that  was  brought  to  him  with  the  object  ready  prepared, 
when  he  was  told  that  the  inspection  would  refute  his  hypoth- 
esis. And  certainly  vicious  propensities  lay  a  stronger  bias 
on  the  mind,  than  any  speculative  opinions  whatever. 


MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS.  203 

It  is  evident  from  every  thing  that  Jesus  said  on  the  subject 
of  a  future  state,  that  he  did  not  infer  the  doctrine  by  any  kind 
of  argumentation  whatever.  He  did  not  reason  like  Plato,  but 
taught  it  as  one  having  authority  from  God  so  to  do.  He 
never  advanced  any  thing  concerning  the  natural  reasona- 
bleness or  probability  of  the  thing ;  whereas  an  impostor 
would  have  endeavoured  to  make  his  new  doctrine  appear 
as  plausible  as  he  could,  and,  by  every  mode  of  address  to 
recommend  it  to  his  hearers.  But  in  Jesus  we  see  no  act  of 
this  kind.  What  he  received  from  the  Father,  he  delivered 
unto  men,  without  being  at  all  solicitous  about  the  manner 
in  which  they  received  it. 


When  we  meet  with  such  ideas  as  these,  of  the  character 
and  disposition  of  the  Hebrews,  not  only  in  the  book  of 
Psalms,  but  also  through  the  Old  Testament,  we  must  see 
that  all  the  objections  to  it  by  modern  unbelievers,  from  the 
history  of  the  extermination  of  the  Canaanites  and  a  few  other 
circumstances,  must  be  mere  cavils.  The  minds  of  the  pious 
Hebrews,  who  could  not  but  be  well  acquainted  with  them 
all,  and,  being  nearer  to  the  transactions,  must  have  seen  them 
in  a  truer  light  than  we  can  do,  were,  notwithstanding, 
impressed  with  the  most  exalted  ideas  of  the  justice  and 
mercy  of  God,  and  the  maxims  of  his  moral  government. 
The  destruction  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  by  fire  from  heaven, 
and  of  the  Canaanites  by  the  sword  of  Israel,  gave  them  no 
other  ideas  than  that  of  his  abhorrence  of  vice  and  his  love 
of  virtue  and  goodness.  They  were  in  consequence  filled 
with  sentiments  of  the  purest  love  and  reverence,  and  from 
their  admiration  and  imitation  of  his  conduct  were  led  to 
every  thing  that  was  amiable  and  excellent  in  their  own. 
Compared  with  this,  what  was  the  character  of  the  gods  that 
were  worshipped  by  nations  of  equal  antiquity  with  the  He- 
brews? many  of  them  were  of  the  most  flagitious  character. 


204  MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS. 

and  believed  to  be  guilty  of  most  flagitious  actions.  The 
greatest  of  them  were  beings  to  whom  human  sacrifices, 
and  the  grossest  abominations,  were  most  pleasing. 


Some  persons  have  objected  to  the  evidences  of  Christi- 
anity, but  certainly  without  sufficient  reason,  the  differences 
of  opinion  among  Christians  ;  since  the  very  same  objection 
may  be  made  to  natural  religion,  and  indeed  to  every  thing 
that  has  ever  been  imagined  of  so  much  importance  as  to 
engage  much  of  the  attention  of  mankind  ;  the  consequence 
of  which  has  always  been  different  conceptions  concern- 
ing it.  Were  not  the  disciples  of  Socrates,  Aristotle,  and 
Plato  divided  among  themselves  ?  Are  there  not  as  many 
sects  among  the  Mohammedans  as  among  the  Christians  ? 
And  are  there  not  almost  as  many  different  opinions  among 
the  Papists  as  among  the  Protestants,  notwithstanding  they 
profess  to  be  possessed  of  an  infallible  judge  in  all  controver- 
sies of  faith  ?  Do  not  even  our  ablest  lawyers  give  different 
opinions  concerning  the  sense  of  acts  of  parliament,  which 
were  intended  to  convey  the  most  determinate  meaning  so  as 
to  obviate  all  cavils?  Nay,  have  we  not  equal  reasou  to  ex- 
pect that  unbelievers  should  agree  in  the  same  system  of 
unbelief?  If  they  say  to  us,  agree  first  among  yourselves, 
and  tell  us  what  Christianity  is,  and  we  will  tell  you  what  we 
have  to  object  to  it ;  we  have  a  right  to  reply, — Do  you  agree 
first  with  respect  to  what  you  suppose  to  be  wrong  in  it,  tell 
us  what  you  object  to,  and  we  will  then  consider  of  the  proper 
answer. 


MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS.  205 

Extract  from  the  Preface  to  the  History  of  Electricity. 

A  philosopher  ought  to  be  somerthing  greater  and  better 
than  another  man.  The  contemplation  of  the  works  of  God 
should  give  a  sublimity  to  his  virtue,  should  expand  his  be- 
nevolence, extinguish  every  thing  mean,  base,  and  selfish  in 
his  nature,  give  a  dignity  to  all  his  sentiments,  and  teach  him 
to  aspire  to  the  moral  perfections  of  the  great  Author  of  all 
things.  What  great  and  exalted  bieings  would  philosophers 
be,  would  they  but  let  the  object  about  which  they  are  con- 
versant, have  their  proper  moral  effect  upon  their  minds !  A 
life  spent  in  contemplation  of  the  productions  of  divine  power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness,  would  be  a  life  of  devotion.  The 
more  we  see  of  the  wonderful  structure  of  the  world,  and  the 
laws  of  nature,  the  more  clearly  do  we  comprehend  their  ad- 
mirable uses,  to  make  all  the  percipient  creation  happy  ;  a 
sentiment  which  cannot  but  fill  the  heart  with  unbounded 
love,  gratitude,  and  joy. 

Even  every  thing  painful  and  disagreeable  in  the  world 
appears  to  be  provided,  as  a  remedy  of  some  other  greater 
inconvenience,  or  a  necessary  means  of  a  much  greater  hap- 
piness;  so  that  from  this  elevated  point  of  view,  he  sees  all 
temporary  evils  and  inconveniences  to  vanish,  in  the  glorious 
prospect  of  thd  great  good  to  which  they  are  subservient. 
Hence,  he  is  able  to  venerate  and  rejoice  in  God,  not  only  in 
the  bright  sunshine,  but  also  in  the  darkest  shades  of  nature, 
whereas,  vulgar  minds  are  apt  to  be  disconcerted  with  the 
appearance  of  evil. 

Nor  is  the  cultivation  of  piety  useful  to  us  only  as  men,  it 
is  even  useful  to  us  as  philosophers  ;  and  as  the  true  philoso- 
phy tends  to  promote  piety,  so  a  generous  and  manly  piety  is 
reciprocally  subservient  to  the  purposes  of  philosophy ;  and 
this  both  in  a  direct  and  indirect  manner.  While  we  keep 
in  view  the  great  final  cause  of  all  the  parts  and  laws  of 
nature,  we  have  some  clue  by  which  to  trace  the  efficient 


206  MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS. 

cause.  This  is  most  of  all  obvious  in  that  part  of  philosophy 
which  respects  the  animal  creation.  As  the  great  and  excel- 
lent Dr.  Hartley  observes,  "  Since  this  world  is  a  system  of 
benevolence,  and  consequently  its  Author  the  object  of  un- 
bounded love  and  adoration,  benevolence  and  piety  are  our 
only  true  guides  in  our  inquiries  into  it ;  the  only  keys  that 
will  unlock  the  mysteries  of  nature,  and  clues  which  lead 
through  her  labyrinths.  Of  this  all  branches  of  natural  his- 
tory and  natural  philosophy  afford  abundant  instances." 

In  all  these  inquiries,  let  the  inquirer  take  it  for  granted 
previously,  that  every  thing  is  right,  and  the  best  that  can  be, 
rceteris  mancntibus  ;  that  is,  let  him  with  a  pious  confidence 
seek  for  benevolent  purposes,  and  he  will  be  always  directed 
to  the  right  road ;  and  after  a  due  continuance  in  it,  attain  to 
some  new  and  valuable  truth  :  whereas  every  other  principle 
and  motive  of  examination,  being  foreign  to  the  great  plan  on 
which  the  universe  is  constructed,  must  lead  into  endless 
mazes,  errors,  and  perplexities. 


Extract  from  the  Preface  to  Dr.  Priestley's  latest 
Publication. 

As  an  old  man,  and  one  whose  increasing  infirmities  ad- 
monish him  that  he  cannot  be  far  from  that  bourn  from 
which  there  is  no  return,  I  hope  I  shall  be  excused  if  I  take 
this  opportunity  of  saying  that,  in  these  circumstances,  the 
advantage  arising  from  a  firm  belief  in  revelation,  and  con- 
sequently in  a  future  state,  is  inexpressible  ;  and  by  persons 
wholly  immersed  in  the  business  of  this  life,  and  fascinated 
with  its  vain  pursuits  and  fleeting  enjbyments,  cannot  be  con- 
ceived, and  will  not  be  believed. 

The  nearer  I  am  to  death,  the  nearer  I  am  continually 
thinking  I  am  to  the  great  scenes  that  will  open  to  me  after 


MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS.  207" 

it;  and,  to  my  apprehension,  immediately  after  it:  when  I 
shall  receive  from  that  Jesus,  whose  divine  mission  it  has 
been  one  principal  object  with  me  to  defend,  and  by  whose 
precepts,  I  hope  I  may  say,  it  has  been  my  habitual  endeav- 
our to  regulate  all  my  conduct  (how  imperfect  soever  has 
been  my  success),  whatever  new  station  I  shall  be  thought 
qualified  for  in  the  renovated  world,  and  which,  I  hope,  will 
not  be  less  active,  useful,  and  happy,  than  that  which  has 
been  my  lot  in  this.  * 

There,  if  I  have  this  happiness,  I  shall  meet  all  my  pious 
friends  and  benefactors,  whose  characters  and  virtues  I  take 
pleasure  in  contemplating ;  and  it  has  been  my  happiness  to 
have  had  among  those  whom  I  call  my  friends,  some  of  the 
first  and  fairest  of  human  characters.  Their  good  opinion 
and  encouragement  has  always  been  more  than  a  compensa- 
tion for  all  the  obloquy,  and  some  more  serious  evils,  to  which 
I  have  occasionally  been  exposed.  These,  however,  I  now 
look  back  upon  without  any  resentment  with  respect  to  men, 
and  with  gratitude  to  the  Sovereign  Disposer  of  all  things,  for 
the  salutary  discipline  of  which  they  have  been  a  part.  With- 
out such  discipline  as  this,  though  consisting  of  many  things 
exceedingly  unpleasant  and  distressing  at  the  time,  what 
would  any  man  be?  The  best  of  us  would  be  nothing  more 
than  spoiled  children,  unhappy  in  ourselves  and  insufferable 
to  others. 

I  have  no  idea  of  any  greater  happiness  than  such  society 
as  I  have  had,  and  such  employments  and  pursuits  as  I  have 
been  occupied  in  here.  Then,  in  particular,  I  shall  hope  to 
resume  my  investigation  of  the  great  system  of  which  I  am 
a  part,  with  more  advantage  than  I  can  at  present ;  and,  see- 
ing more  of  the  Creator  in  his  works,  feel  such  an  increase 
of  admiration  and  devotion,  as  our  imperfect  knowledge  does 
not  admit  of  at  present.  There,  all  the  evils,  natural  and 
moral,  that  are  incident  to  the  present  state,  having  answered 
the  excellent  purpose  of  discipline,  and  of  forming  the  mind 
to  true  excellence,  will  be  done  away. 


im^- 


